


Hunt

by redwarmshadow



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redwarmshadow/pseuds/redwarmshadow
Summary: In which a young girl learns to fight the evils of the outside world with those within her in a very different Brockton Bay
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	1. Hunt 1.1

**Disclaimer: Worm is Wildbow amazing as he is and Dead by Daylight is owned by Behavior Interactive. Also don’t take this seriously, it’s a plot bunny that has high chances of not going anywhere, and I haven’t played the game in a while mostly because I got bored but I like the lore quite bit. So if there is any mistakes with how the killers powers and abilities or anything else from DbD are moved to the setting please tell me.**

**Hunt 1.1.**

Brockton Bay looked eerie by night and the only thing she could think of was _ I want to go home. _

She didn't want to do this. She wanted to be in bed, safe and away from the cold, from loneliness, and from possible criminals.

But she couldn't, she wouldn't. She had to do this tonight. She knew that if she didn't do this then she would find an excuse for not doing it tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that one. And so on until one day she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep hold of them anymore and then they would—.

Better not to think of that. The voices were already too present in her daily life without the need to give them more attention. The more attention she gave them then it was more that  _ they _ showed her, and she could live without those.

She breathed in, feeling it course through her body, inside and out. It did little to relax her and it arguably made her anxiety worse.

But still she decided to keep going without looking back. The optimistic part of her brain couldn't help but think that she was doing did it by her own accord and free will...something that was immediately squished when the much more realistic side told her that it wasn't really her choice. It  _ had _ to be tonight or the consequences would be too severe. 

The voices had made that clear.

It was just after midnight and she was crossing the line between the nice side of the city to the one where all the gangsters, whores and criminals lived. The perfect hunting ground for someone like her. Full of people that, if the worst happened, not many would miss.

Memories, both bad and good, arose and Taylor immediately killed them. No time to think about those things. That was what the therapist was for, and strong emotions only made it worse. She focused on her trip and her objective and left all thoughts of sadness and melancholy wash away.

Brockton Bay used to be a bustling city full of work and opportunities, thanks to its import/export business. But when it dried up it left a lot of people without jobs, which in turn led to the sudden increase of supervillain population when a considerable portion of the population suddenly saw crime, and other illicit activities as viable job opportunities.

The heroes’ response took some time to arrive and by then Brockton Bay had already been filled to the brim with villains, gangs, and other groups that weren't too eager to share it with one another. However, an equilibrium between heroes and villains was struck and for a while Brockton Bay could enjoy a new normal where finally, there was someone to stop the villains from going too far.

Then the killings started, and the delicate balance that was struck got shattered once again when several high profile capes got killed and outed among several other high profile victims. Several of which were seemingly unconnected. 

The fact that the killer was never caught, even when the Protectorate got involved, only made it further noteworthy and became a black spot on the city’s history and a point of mockery when the Protectorate competence came up.

She reached the ugly part of the city, and she could see the change almost immediately. Buildings were worse off and there was an enormous quantity of abandoned warehouses and apartments, which gave the most destitute people some shelter from the outside world. She steered clear of anyone the best she could in search of an empty quiet place to use her power. 

Better if there wasn’t anyone to watch  _ that _ nearby.   
  


She found her solace in an empty alley, and there she prepared herself to use her power. It was always hard for her to use it, and no matter what she did it never got 

any easier.

She tried to research if these things were normal for new capes, if the alien, intruding and dissociative  _ feeling _ that her power gave her was the norm when it came to powers.

She was disappointed. All the ones she found spoke of how parahumans saw their powers as something instinctual, something they learned how to use in natural ways, sometimes with help, to learn new ways to use them.  _ None  _ ever spoke of the wrongness of it all. Of the dreams and the _ blood. _

She knew of only one person that had a power similar to her own, and she _ refused  _ to be like her. First of all she was sure their powers were wildly different at their core, and second (and most important) she was  _ not _ a murderer.

_ Not yet at least. _

She focused on her power and the feelings it gave her. The cold, the i _ ntrusion,  _ of something that wasn’t  _ her _ in her body, and soul. She couldn’t place where it was in her body or insides it was, and in the end she just decided that it was just  _ there.  _ Several presences, all pressing on her from different sides, in a place she couldn’t pinpoint, but was far enough for her to be unable to reach, but not enough for her to not feel.

She grasped that feeling and then _ went deeper, as if  _ entering a hallway full of doors and webs. And behind those doors were the voices.

_ The body compressed and churned, and he screamed, he deserved, he deserved it, he-. _

No, not that one, Taylor thought, passing by the door with sounds of grinding. Too sorrowful and monstrous in shape; need something better to start with.

Another one.  _ Chainsaw roaring. Twisted. Disfigured. He screamed and- _ No not that one.

Taylor grimaced and frustration started to creep in. Another one too bad to use. That one was also far too monstrous to use. Too much of a berserk. She needed to be quiet. 

She needed one of the less horrifying ones. One that would allow her to at least pretend to be a hero. She searched the tunnel with her unique sense. So many doors… and all of them with monsters in it. She knew just the one that could help her, though. She needed to be a ghost.

_ “The Nurse” _ , she thought. “ _ Take me to her.” _

She moved and arrived in front of another door.  _ The flesh around his neck was soft, yet sturdy. Sally just keep squishing and his eyes bulged. The doctor was always rude to her and now she-. _

Taylor silenced the voice, but it was still there. Still speaking but she wouldn’t hear it anymore. She’d already tried once and knew what would happen if she did it again.

She opened the door, felt the cold and sadness from within and then  _ embraced what was inside _ .

_ — Anxious girl was among the nicest. She couldn't help but feel a little—. _

Taylor focused and tried to take in the wave of memories from the Nurse and as she did tried to suppress them. To dominate them. This was always the hardest part of the transformation. To remember the line that existed between her and the woman that used to be Sally.

_ She giggled. Nurse Morris told her that—. _

_ “Close your eyes and remember who you are”,  _ Taylor thought. “ _ Remember Mom and Dad. Emma. The people you do this for.” _

_ It’s okay. It's okay. You can do this just get up and go to work and then you can just re–.  _ Another fragment of a memory. Another thing she had to squash.

Cold kept washing over her and she felt her body twist and change even more. Her breath grew short, her body weightless. The others’ presence dimming out and The Nurse getting stronger and stronger. Enveloping her.

A cacophony of voices engulfed her, all saying different things. All of them in a female voice constantly changing.

_ Remember who you are _ .

“ _ I'm Taylor Anne Hebert. I'm Taylor Anne Hebert. Daughter, friend and...hero. Not her. Never her.” _

The voices reached a crescendo. All screaming. Taylor just kept repeating her mantra.

She was enveloped in white by now. She just knew it.

Her left hand was full. She was almost done.

_ “I'm Taylor Anne Hebert. A hero. Not a murderer...I'm not you,  _ **_Sally_ ** _.” _

The screaming stopped and the presences where gone, voices and memories with them.

Taylor was alone. In a body not her own, but truly alone for the first time in a while.

She looked at her hands and grimaced at the bloody bonesaw in one of them. Banishing it didn't work, it always came back. The same thing happened when she threw it away and hoped it got lost somewhere. It always returned it to her hand. The blood stains didn't go away either. They were always there. Always a proof of the true nature of the person she looked like and the things she did.

The rest of her wasn't better, which was really depressing when she considered that the Nurse was one of the less monstrous-looking ones.

From her head to toe she was covered in white tattered robes that were actually a nurse uniform from decades before. She couldn't see, or at least not very well — dirty bandages covered her entire head —but her power made that moot. She wasn't walking, or touching the ground. She was floating and couldn't get down. Not like she wanted. Her feet were bare and the ground must be cold.

She looked like a ghost, and certainly not a friendly one; She looked like those out of horror movies that were out to kill people. And wasn't that the gist of her problems?

Some capes got super strength and the power to fly. Others were tinkers that could built amazing technological marvels. Others could throw lasers around and make force fields. All of them were good powers.

The kind of powers a hero should have.

Her? What a joke compared to them.

And that was because Taylor Hebert couldn't do any of these things. Of all the powers she could have ended up with she ended up with one that screamed “villain” all over.

And why's that? Well that was because of all the amazing powers out there she ended up with the ability to turn into  _ serial killers.  _ Each one of them with different powers and abilities.

On the surface that sounded good, but that wasn't the end of it. And that was because those killers weren't quiet. They were  _ alive _ and  _ sentient _ inside of her. Always there, asking for her to use them or worse.

They invaded her dreams day after day if she didn't do this. Constant. Unrelenting. Unless she complied.

And they wanted out.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Hunt 1.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor finds the fight she was searching for.

**Hunt 1.2**

Doing this hero thing was harder than it seemed.

Taylor thought that coming to the bad part of the city should make this whole cape-ing thing really easy for her. Just find some gangsters, criminals, whatever and beat them up a bit before leaving them to the police and then skedaddle before anyone saw her. She hoped that the Nurse ability would make that even easier but sadly she ignored one tiny thing that ended up messing with her whole plan.

They were simply too many people around her. 

She had only used the Nurse (nor any of the others) for a little while before switching back and she’d always done it in secluded and carefully searched places with very few people around.

Here near the Docks? It was a little harder since she was in one of the most populated areas of Brockton Bay. And that made one of the Nurse’s biggest advantages— on any other occasion— an annoying hurdle that was getting more annoying by the second.

Since the Nurse’s head was covered by bandages— with only a tiny, almost imperceptible space near the eyes to see— that meant that her visibility was very limited, and by extension Taylor's too. That also meant that in order to track down people she had to depend on _hearing._

And that was one of the Nurse's powers. Super hearing basically. Breathing, screams, voices. As long as she focused she could find and pinpoint noises and use them to move and hunt, she guessed. 

When she was alone in the Boat Graveyard, or in the Trainyard, it was easy. Less people around and more freedom of movement.

Here it was the opposite.

She knew that the Azn Bad Boys were mostly based in this area and because of that, and the current hour, she expected to quickly find some obvious members of that gang committing some felony so she could quickly beat them up, calling someone else to take care of them and then quickly return home. 

Snoring, yelling, laughter, breathing... moaning. All very human noises and while her power allowed her to easily separate and pinpoint them, it wasn't powerful enough to be able to sort their location across long distances or in a widespread area like the Docks.

  
  


So that was what Taylor Hebert was doing right now. Literally skulking the streets and back alleys trying to hear trouble. It wasn't even supposed to be that hard! The Nurse’s ability was even made for this!! A beating, a mugging, _something._

How did other heroes do it?

God, this was so frustrating. All her life all she ever wanted was to be a hero. To save people. To do some good in this world and make her parents proud.

And now? Well that was one big irony. Now that she had finally gotten her powers all she wanted right now was just to give them back, and get back what she lost to get them, and then go back to her boring life with her parents and her annoying best friend.

She sighed, something that, with her current voice, sounded incredible distorted and older. 

Still, complaining wouldn't work so she just advanced and kept going to find some gangsters to hurt and injure. 

Blood and violence, or at least the promise of them, was the only thing that seemed to calm down the killers after weeks of inactivity, and tomorrow she had promised to hang out with Sophia and Chris after school. And she couldn't do that if she was possessed by a supernatural serial killer and painting the streets red with the blood of innocents.

_"Now,"_ Taylor thought as she shook her bloody bonesaw _. Where the_ **_fuck_ ** _were those gangsters?"_

XXXXXXXX

She was starting to regret her previous words. A _lot._

She wished for powers. She got them. She wished to be a hero. Now here she was, trying to find criminals. Now, _of course_ , she wished for trouble so she could swoop in, save the day and, of course, give some blood to the carnival of psychotic killers in her brain so she could live a normal life.

Well...she fucking **got it.**

“Nagato, Shiki, rest of you!! You already heard Oni Lee, spread out and shoot that goddamn shadow bitch out of her goddam misery. This is it. We got that bitch on the ropes. The boss himself and Oni Lee are taking care of her whore of a partner.”

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ . Oni Lee was around!? And the ‘boss himself. _Shit._ These guys were definitely ABB, if that wasn't already obvious, so she could say two things at least about this. 

The first one: she found some criminals to apprehend. Good, she was getting real bored actually. Being in a body that wasn't her own was a tiring thing, especially the way she looked like. 

The other one was even more obvious: Oni Lee was here, and if she heard those gangsters correctly about their boss then that meant that _Lung_ , of all people, was around.

That was _really fucking bad._ He was so far out of her league that it wasn't even funny how outclassed she was. Oni Lee wasn't much better.

Yeah, she didn't want to do this.

Anxiety and fear ate at her. God, what she was even doing? Her, nerdy and ugly Taylor Hebert, a _hero_? That was one ugly joke. She could have laughed if she didn't have the feeling that she couldn't do it in this body.

God, what the fuck was she doing. She could have tried to take these thugs but...fuck, if Oni Lee came back then she was in deep shit. She wasn't worried about those guns but Oni Lee was known to use explosives with his clones.

And… she didn't want to die. She- she just couldn't and—. 

_Kill them. Rend them to pieces. Sate the lust. Blood. Meat. Bones and veins. Cut and kill._

Taylor grimaced and crushed the Voices behind a wall. Little it served when she fog started rising on the edges on her vision and the Voices grew louder and beyond her block.

Right. Tonight was the night to pay her dues. Forgetting that was deadly for her. 

Among the shadows of the dark and deserted alley she was hiding in, Taylor Hebert breathed in and out. It came out as a wheeze, and her chest hurt when she did it, but it helped relax her anyway and remember the real reasons why she was doing this.

She was going to use this ugly power and its awful price to do some good in this city. Even if she was scared shitless and didn't deserve to be a hero. Even if she actually didn't want to.

She heard them talking once again.

"Spread out and move out. Bitch can't use her power for now. Find her and put her down! "

Right, they were going to kill someone. They mentioned a "shadow bitch", and while her knowledge of the Bay's cape population wasn't up to date, she knew that for a while a vigilante with shadow powers had been on the spotlight of PHO since she helped to capture one of the Empire's capes and gave Skidmark a beatdown last week.

She didn't remember her name but she at least knew that she couldn't let her be killed. A hero wouldn't do that. Wouldn't abandon someone in need. 

Of course she couldn't just go there and start hacking at them with her bonesaw. She needed to be smart about this.

" _They're spreading out inside of that warehouse and around the surrounding ones"_ , she thought. " _A straight fight would be too loud and worse case scenario it would draw Oni Lee back here. I need to hunt them before they can find that vigilante. Silently, if possible."_

Another breath in and an ugly wheeze out. God, she had a feeling she was going to regret this.

Still, Taylor Hebert gathered her courage and squared her shoulders. Looking at the group of gangsters that were moving and positioning themselves on different locations she made her decision and chose her target.

Her right hand gathered her power and she took a breath, locked eyes with her first victim, and after some seconds of preparation she let go and started her hunt.

_Blink._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Hunt 1.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor goes to rescue someone

**Hunt 1.3**

She disappeared from her hiding spot, and appeared next to the side of her first prey, trying, and failing, to not shriek. It was useless. For her, using this power was always painful. Like if her whole world was on fire, for just a brief seconds.

The gangster only had one second to look at her and almost scream in alarm when her bonesaw came down. However, before its sharp side could fall on his head, she moved her hand in a movement that felt extremely  _ forced _ and, instead, the blunt side of her weapon met the gangster's head. He fell like a bag of bricks and she caught him, lifted him up and blinked once again to the top of the building opposite the alley.

She dropped him to the floor, and breathed in relief, then grimaced at the bloody mark her attack had left. For a second it seemed so easy, so simple. A hero attacking a criminal. Then she remembered that in this body the lines that she couldn't cross felt blurred. Nonexistent, in some cases. Killing someone didn't feel like this unforgivable act right now. It felt like making breakfast, or just changing her clothes. A daily activity: thoughtless,  _ routine _ . She felt that she could just cut his head off and then go on, just like that, to keep doing her thing. With the body behind her becoming something meaningless.

And that was why her power scared her so much. How easy it was to lose control  _ and  _ herself while using it.

Even if she was in control right now, it didn't meant that the Nurse wasn’t still there, lurking on the edges, alongside the Fog and the Voices. Waiting for her to slip, to lose control. To usurp her position as the dominant one.

She couldn't let that happen. 

She looked at the gangster and checked his weapons. He had a knife and what looked like a semi-automatic weapon with a light installed on it. Turned off, at least. In his pockets were several magazines of ammunition and... money. She put the roll of cash aside and looked at the rest. She had to get rid of them, somehow, so he wouldn't cause too much of a problem once he woke up.

She looked at the bonesaw and then to the gun. Maybe…

Yeah. No. Terrible idea. She didn't even know if a gun could _ be hacked. _ And she wasn't actually interested in knowing. 

A terrible idea, for an already terrible night. In the end, since she had no idea how to handle a gun or even disarm it, she decided to just take it with her when she blinked and leave it somewhere. She would also take the money and hope that, when she turned back, it would still be there.

She looked at her hand. Her charges were back to normal, but she had to be careful about not spending them all too soon or fatigue would catch up to her too much. Especially here. She had to strike at the right moment and avoid a straight up fight the best she could.

She had many doubts about leaving the gangster here— even if he was unarmed now— and, just for a traitorous second, she thought about finishing him off. Fuck, it was annoying to constantly do that. She quickly destroyed those thoughts, and in the end resolved to leaving him here. He seemed pretty out of it and she guessed that he wasn't going to wake up. She hadn't brought any zip-ties or another form of restraint for the bad guys— something she was really regretting now— and none of her current powers were suited for restraining people. 

She sighed and looked down. No shout and no signs of alarm, or even a sign of recognition about the disappearance of their friend. Weird, but not unwelcome.

That meant she still had the element of surprise on her side for a while longer. Eventually they would realize that something was wrong and grow wary, but by then she hoped that the number of gangsters would be low enough that it wouldn't matter

She looked to the streets below. There were ten gangsters at the start— all of them armed to the teeth with what looked like automatic guns, like those in the movies and maybe some handguns for what she could see. Nothing too exotic or tinker-y. Good, in this body she was sure she could handle normal. As long as she stayed away from heavy concentrated rays of lights, at least.

They were pretty sure that they could take on the vigilante on their own as well; without one of their capes helping them. Usually she would chalk that up to suicidal overconfidence, but they did mention that she couldn't use her powers for some reason. 

Had the ABB picked up a cape that somehow could nullify powers or something like that? If they did then they were keeping it under wraps, since PHO would probably explode at a new cape showing up in the city. Or maybe it wasn't a new cape, maybe it was some sort of tinkertech that the ABB had bought, or made. A new tinker then? 

That was worse than the null cape in her opinion— tinkers could pretty much do anything as long they had the required materials, and one who figured out how to nullify powers seemed pretty fucking terrifying to her.

Of course, there was also the chance she was just being way too paranoid and the cape couldn't use her powers for other reasons, or she was just injured and that stopped her from using her abilities in a reliable way.

Either way she had to be careful. And, now she realized, she had to find that vigilante to see how she was. This whole thing became worthless if she was dead, after all.

She focused, and  _ listened _ .

—” _ Fuck, where's that bitch. Shit, if we don't find her then” _ — Male, coming from below. His figure almost streamlined. A gangster.

—” _ Doko ni imasu”... _ — Another gangster, she was sure. He walked near an alley to her left. She was not sure what she heard. She barely knew her Spanish; her Japanese, Chinese or Korean were nonexistent.

—"... _ Fuck, shit, fuck. How the fuck do I get this thing off. Fucking gangsters I'm gonna" _ —. Another voice. Female. Angry, in pain. None of the gangsters were female. Her outline was in red, a foggy aura surrounding her. Wounded. The vigilante. 

She was near the building diagonal to her, wounded and between two warehouses, hiding in the shadows and steering clear of any ABB members. She looked to be trying to reach a side ladder to the top of the building where they were no enemies. And she was clutching her side. The smell of blood was faint. Not a cut. Something else.

Taylor thought about what to do. She could try to reach the cape, and try to help her by blinking them both to the roof. However she quickly discarded that. Taylor didn't look friendly while being the Nurse and couldn't help but think that it was likely that she'd be attacked at first sight. Didn't help that she couldn't actually talk in this form for some reason and that she was terrible at charades.

She sighed and looked at the cape. She wasn't that far from the ladder and she didn't look  _ that _ injured. She guessed that helping her get up a ladder wasn’t that high a priority. 

The other choice was to take out the bad guys so they didn't kill her which, honestly, seemed far more appealing for her than going to the rescue.

Besides, that girl didn't seemed that helpless right now. As long as they didn’t find her and she didn’t do something incredible stupid she would be unharmed.

However if they found her and she couldn't use her powers…

_ Everyone knew what Lung did to the last independent he caught. _

Decision made, she chose a place to blink to and disappeared.

‘ _ Time to hunt again, then.’  _

__ XxxxxxX

Her second prey was a little trickier. He was the closest person to the first she took. He was also the most likely to realize that something was wrong. 

She had to take out everyone she could before they realized what was happening, help that girl, and then get the hell out before a cape showed up.

She knew that it was easier said than done, but that didn't discourage her. 

Very few things could these days.

She blinked and appeared to the side of the gangster. He didn’t notice her, and she didn’t waste any time at pushing his head into wall of the alley he was. When he didn’t move she hoisted him on her shoulder and blinked to the top of another buildings, sacked him of all his things and, of course, stole all of his money.

_ 'Eight remaining _ .'

Her third one saw her, a little before she could close in and strike, and in response he shot her. Stupid of her— failing to calculate the proper distance. She screamed in surprise and responded with terror and violence. Bullets hit her ghostly body, but she took them all. For her it was more like mosquito bites than bullets. Another blink with a shriek. She didn't bother hiding it this time. The gangster ruined her chances of finishing this silently anyway.

Her blade met his hands and he screamed in pain. She fixed that with the blunt end of see her weapon. 

_ 'Seven now.' _

She gasped, fatigued and annoyed. Fuck. Now they knew of her. Fuck and shit.

"...was that? Hurry the hell up. That was where Beom was!!”

Yells and screams. Heading to her direction. They thought she was the vigilante. She hoisted the guy to her shoulder and blinked once again.

She dropped him to the floor and gasped. Fuck she was tired. She had to judge her blinks better from now on. Of course, she thought that the last time as well...

Now however...

Noises below her. The bad guys asking where the hell was their partner.

So much for being stealthy. She sighed and looked at her latest captured bad guy. His hand had an ugly gash that poured blood, but no fingers were hacked off or damaged too severely. Also, she could see the beginnings of an ugly bruise forming, so he'd probably have a concussion.

Not like she cared about that. Especially since she didn't think  _ he  _ cared about all the people he’d hurt.

Besides, he was still alive. That counted as a win for her.

_ 'Seven remaining and on high alert,' _ she thought.  _ 'No way in hell I'm ending this quietly.' _

Well then. Plan B it was.

She blinked right to the top of the building the vigilante was. When she arrived she found the cape crouched on the roof, wary and looking below, while hissing in pain and constantly touching the left side of her torso as if she was searching for something in her body.

Trying to take them out alone was useless now. They were wary, ready for trouble and some even looked  _ eager _ for it. If she could help the girl and they teamed up then she was sure they could make short work of those assholes.

Her arrival alerted the cape, and her response was as she expected.

Basically, she yelled In surprise and shot her with...an arrow!?

Well, that was unusual.

The projectile met its target and nailed itself on her left shoulder. It stung a little, but nothing that couldn't be easily shrugged off after she removed it from her body.

However that could wait. Priority number one was avoiding getting more arrows in her. Especially on the face.

And to do that…

"Who the fuck are you!! Answer me!!” The female’s voice was mostly angry and shocked but it had tints of fear in it. Expected, but still something unwelcome. She was trying to work with the girl, not kill her.

" _ Yet. _ "  _ Shut it. _

_ Annoying thoughts. _

“Are you with the Empire!? Answer me, fucking creep, or the next one goes right through your fucking head.” Her hand was shaking. Was it pain or was she actually scared of her?

God, she knew that trying to be diplomatic was going to be hard, but she hadn’t even started and she just felt  _ exhausted _ already. Didn’t help that she was waving around a bloody bonesaw that she couldn't get rid off. Still, she could give it a shot at least.

Worst case scenario she could just blink away and forget all about this. 

She showed the girl her left hand while hunching her back and slightly bowing her head. Trying to appear slightly submissive while at the same time trying to convey she was harmless to her. Or at least the best she could since she still had the bloody bonesaw on one of her hands.

Still her effort seemed to be partially successful, since the cape actually stopped threatening her for a second, and just watched with what seemed to be confusion. Okay, first step was  _ partially _ successful

.

Now she just had to-.

“Oh, shit.” The girl just said while looking to the side.

_ Okay, now what?  _ Taylor looked at her side and fear immediately seized her body. 

A man stood on the right side of the building, a few feet away from Taylor and the other cape. He stood there watching them impassively, while one of his hands caressed one of the knives in his bandolier. Taylor recognized him immediately.

Black bodysuit with a bandolier filled to the brim with knives and grenades and a demonic red mask with a leering fanged grin.

_ Oni Lee. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Hunt 1.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor has a cape fight.

**Hunt 1.4**

Taylor made what she considered to be the first smart decision of the night.

She grabbed the vigilante roughly, ignored her complaints and insults, and  _ immediately _ turned tail and ran blinking away from the demon-masked killer. She hoped he would be like other serial killers and take his time to hunt them down, while sadistically telling them how hopelessly outmatched they were.

She didn't know what effect her teleportation would have on someone like the vigilante, without her...special body, but she guessed it would still be better than being blown to bits or stabbed to death. She hauled the girl on her shoulder— while ignoring her screams, insults and constant struggle— and prepared to get the hell away. Oni Lee was a teleporter, just like her, so escaping wouldn't be easy—if it even was possible, since she was unaware of his limits, only that he needed to see to teleport according to PHO—but she was aware that her chances against him right now where in the negatives, and that he had killed dozens, or hundreds, of people in highly gruesome ways at Lung's orders. She wasn't in the mood to die tonight, even if that was her karmic retribution for lying and sneaking away without telling anyone. She wanted to blame the Voices for this shitshow of a night— and they were partly to blame—but the truth was that she also had some responsibility for this horrible night. 

Meanwhile Oni Lee just stared impassively at her with his head slightly tilted, like a cat watching a mouse, with his hand still caressing one of his knives and the other one slowly touching a grenade on his bandolier. Observing them, probably studying and analyzing where he would strike, with a strange calm that was eerie and disturbing. He was predator that was sure that his prey would be caught and slaughtered. Oni Lee’s power meant that escaping from him would be hard, and his arsenal made possible many horrible fates. She wondered how it would feel to die from being exploded. Would it be instantaneous? Or would it hurt more than being stabbed by a knife? 

Those morbid questions that consumed her mind and her doubts on where to run away were suddenly interrupted when Oni Lee  _ moved, _ and suddenly she could feel him behind her as she stared at what she assumed was a copy. This one grabbed a grenade from his bandolier and pulled the pin. Taylor reacted without thought—her body moved as if wasn't her own and suddenly she blinked and was halfway up the roof of another building with the girl strapped on her shoulder, who released a small scream. The roof parallel to her own— the one she just left blew up In an amazing show of sound and smoke.

Oni Lee appeared once again, knife in hand in front of her, and startled by his sudden presence Taylor couldn't react fast enough as he threw several knives at her. One landed in her head, another in the arm that held the  _ still _ hysterical cape, and one stuck in her chest. They didn't affect her and it practically didn't hurt, but the surprise did make her drop the cape and make her instinctively step back. The girl fell on the ground with a yelp, and Oni Lee moved in for the kill. Another one appeared next to them and pulled more knives, looming over the shadow cape, who was trying to scramble away and reach for something— probably a weapon.

Taylor, scared as hell as she was, reacted the best she could and blinked behind him, startling the killer. Emboldened by the fact that Oni Lee had attacked them first and that nobody that mattered to her would give a shit if the scary sociopath ended up in a hospital, she swung her bonesaw with a desperation that was familiar to her. The villain twisted around and tried to dodge, but the blade caught him in the arm, he dodged and faced her but before he could anything else he turned to ash. A clone.

She turned around just in time to block a knife. Oni Lee stood behind it, and to her side another appeared, grabbing a grenade from his bandolier. Fuck. What now? Could she hack this clone, grab the girl, and run away? Was this a clone? Could she run away? Just like her he was a teleporter, and that meant that as long as he could see her he could chase her. She needed to lose him. Recover some ground and, most importantly, try not to die.

A voice erupted from behind her. “Get down!!”

Taylor did as told and immediately blinked away. Not a second later an arrow shot and buried itself in Oni Lee’s forehead. He fell to the ground, and stood still and for horrible second Taylor thought he was dead, but then he turned to ash once again. Another clone. The girl reloaded her crossbow and Taylor, once she was sure her charge was back, blinked to the back of the other Oni Lee. He turned and tried to pull the pin but she slashed him and forced him to dodge. She had to stop him from teleporting away. His PHO page said that he needed to see where he went so as long as she kept him entertained then he wouldn't go away. If she didn't then he could just keep him chasing them.

She slashed at him once again, and he blocked with his knife,and tried to bat away the bonesaw like it was nothing but seemed to be shocked when Taylor pushed  _ him _ . He stumbled and she closed in trying to cover his sight with his body. He tried to pull the pin with one hand but she moved in, trying to punch him with her empty hand. He dodged, and tried to stab her again when an arrow buried itself in his back, putting him off-balance. He didn't turn to ash, even after all of this time. He was the real one. She moved closer to him and tried to hit his mask, but he threw a knife at her. She managed to block it, barely, and he looked at the cape and suddenly there was a new Oni Lee in front of the vigilante. 

Taylor hacked at the clone before it could move striking his neck and trusting her other power to make it bleed. With some luck the clone would expire before dying. She moved to the new one. The cape had jumped at the killer, desperately trying to wrestle the grenade out of his hand. Their fight looked more like a pair of animals fighting than a pair of humans. However, it was clear than Oni Lee was winning. The girl movement seemed sluggish and pained; her wound from before.

Before she could do anything, something flew off from the fight and landed between the three of them. The grenade. Without the pin. She blinked behind the girl and grabbed her roughly by the arm, and then teleported away. Behind her, the grenade exploded, covering everything with fire and smoke.

She blinked on top of another building as far away as she could see, and then, just to be sure, blinked again and  _ again.  _ This time she ended up at one of the many abandoned warehouses that were scattered around the Docks. Once she was inside she moved into the shadows of the building. She leaned on one of the walls of the room and let out the ragged breaths she was holding in. As she did so, she released the struggling vigilante. Her energy was sapped and she just felt  _ exhausted _ . Not only because her powers had exhausted her stamina but because this night had been a complete shitshow from beginning to end.

“ _ It would be okay though” _ , she thought. “ _ I'm going to be back at top shape once again in a few seconds. Just...just need to be more careful later.” _

Cursing started at her side as she looked at her former passenger. She was touching her side and hissing. Taylor wished she could talk so she could could ask what the fuck was wrong with her—besides the fact that they were being chased by a dangerous sociopath—and how she could help, but she guessed she would have to settle for not getting blown to bits or getting more arrows inside her.

_ 'Speaking of that…'  _ She reached up to the bolt stuck in her and with a tug it fell off her shoulders making a wet sound, then she did the same with all the knives that were still nailed to her body. The wound did not bleed, and after a second the hole immediately healed. Nice to know she could literally shrug off that kind of damage. 

“J-Jesus fuck!!” the girl hissed, trying to stand up and failing to do so. “What the fuck did you do to me lady!? I can't feel my legs. Fuck! I can't feel  _ anything _ .” Her voice trembled a little at the end and her ski mask was pointed to the clothed mess that was Taylor’s face. She tried to answer that she had no idea what she actually had done with her blink, but of course she couldn't talk and she wasn't actually that good on charades when she previously checked.

“Well,” she continued, her voice angry. “Are you going to answer me or can't you fucking talk?”

Taylor tilted her head at that comment, pointed at her throat and shook her head, hoping to make clear what it meant. 

“Wha- Seriously!? You can't talk?”

She shook her head once again.

“Well… talk about a fucking lame side effect of a power, huh?”

Taylor nodded. She wasn't offended; she fully agreed on the lameness of that aspect of her power. In fact she would agree with everyone that said her power sucked.

“Okay. Well, whatever. Thank you for saving me. Even if I can't feel  _ anything _ right now.” She tried to stand up again and managed to do so halfway, before settling to lean against the wall with her full weight against it. “Name is Shadow Stalker, thanks for the assist,” she continued, her voice more animated and relaxed than before but with an undercurrent of pain and tiredness that she was obviously trying to hide. “Those fuckers thought they got me, glad to see they were wrong. Nice moves, by the way, with Oni Lee. He's the kind of trash you can't hold back on no matter what.”

Taylor thought for a second about how to answer that, and in the end she just decided to nod back. Mostly because she was unsure if the ease in which she decided to attack someone else with a sharp weapon, even if that person was a scary sociopath, was something to be commended. 

“Anyway,” she continued, “those assholes shot me with something that stopped me using my power. I can feel it inside of me. It's like having a fucking bullet inside. So, not like I care, but sorry for being a load down there.”

Taylor just shrugged and tried to show that she didn't mind. Sure she almost died saving her—well kinda, knives didn't work but who knew what grenades could do?— but that was what heroes did, right?

“Well, whatever. What I'm trying to say is that me and my...  _ partner... _ we may need some help because-” What she tried to say was drowned by a nearby explosion, and suddenly flames could be seen from the windows, along with a roar not that far away. Seconds later a tall monstrosity raised itself and became visible to her, wreathed in flame, fighting what seemed to be a bright mote of light in the sky.

“Oh, fuck,” Shadow Stalker said. “It’s Lung.”


	5. Hunt 1.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor makes a bad decision.

**Hunt 1.5**

Lung. A name feared in all of Brockton Bay and considered to be the most powerful cape in the city, having defeated the the full roster of the Protectorate ENE and destroyed some sections of the city. He was a dragon and this city was his hoard.

Lung had arrived in America, and Brockton Bay by extension, in 2007 out of nowhere. A lot of people thought thought he had come from Japan. Leviathan attacked it in 1999 and, while he was driven away in the end, the city and the country paid a steep price for such victory— if it could even be called a victory after so much death and destruction— with millions of refugees immigrating to other countries with their homeland sunk in ruins and poverty. Lung among them.

After that, he disappeared from the face of the Earth only to reappear years later here, in this city, crushing all Asian gangs and groups and consequently uniting them as — ridiculous as it sounded in Taylor’s opinion— the Azn Bad Boys. They controlled the Docks and they were guilty for of countless crimes and monstrous actions, among them  _ sexual slavery. _

He was a beast now, as tall as some buildings. A literal dragon standing proud, roaring and setting fire to everything around him, leaving ashes and smoke. 

A flickering light in the shape of a person frantically flying around him and throwing pure blasts of light. Purity, one of the members of Empire 88. A neo-nazi.

“Fuck,  _ fuck,  _ what the hell is she doing right now,” muttered Shadow Stalker as she searched for something in her costume. “She was supposed to run away if this shit happened.”

She finally found what she was looking for — an old-looking black cell phone. She quickly dialed a number, waiting nervously for a few seconds until the person on the other side finally picked up. “Fucking finally,” Stalker snapped at the phone. “What the hell have you been doing!? We need help. She’s fighting Lung and he's already a fucking monster! Why the hell hasn’t she retreated yet?” A tiny voice answered from the phone and Taylor decided not to listen and respect Stalker privacy; but whatever they were, they only made Shadow Stalker tense more and more.

“A tinker!?” she snarled at the phone. “Fucking shit. Look, I get you’re tired but I need you to go to-” She stopped and listened to whoever was on the other end. "Yeah, yeah," she finally answered, angrier and ready to snap. "I know I don't give you any fucking order and that I'm not your boss, but could you  _ please _ go to where I’m fucking telling you?” Her words were forced and saying “please” to her interlocutor seemed to physically hurt her. She listened a little more and then hung up. “Fucking bitch,” she muttered.

She looked at Taylor, seeming to remember that she was there too. She tried to say something or act aloof but then she dropped all pretense and coughed. "Sorry," she said with some effort. "But this night has been a  _ disaster _ . It was supposed to be a simple patrol. Find some skinheads or gangsters and teach them a lesson about why it’s a bad idea to be a criminal in this city. Then Oni Lee showed up with his lackeys and everything went to hell."

Taylor just stared at her, a well of sympathy emerging from within. She could understand that feeling. Tonight had been nothing but a disaster for her too. She was tired, scared of what she saw and wanted nothing to go home, go to sleep and pretend she didn't have powers, or dreams. That everything was just an ugly fantasy and she was about to wake up. 

But since she couldn't communicate with her she just settled on nodding. Trying, and probably failing, to get through what she really meant.

"Anyways, I hate to do this but I need your help.  _ We _ need help. You saved me from Oni and you haven't tried to kill me so that means you're a hero, right?"

Taylor thought of Oni Lee and the ease with which she had sliced him and hurt him, or how she had hurt that gang member from before. He looked young and that wound seemed severe...

Well, she was at least  _ trying _ to be a hero. That had to count for something.

She nodded.

"Great, good. So you can teleport, right?" Taylor nodded again and gave a quick glance to the window outside. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like where this conversation was headed. “Good, because, and I can't believe I'm gonna say this, I need your help to, and I still _can't_ _believe_ I'm gonna actually say this, but _we_ need your help to, fuck, to rescue _Purity_ ,” she said with nothing but derision for the name.

Taylor couldn't believe what she heard. Purity? The neo-nazi? Who killed and maimed minorities?

What the fuck was wrong with this girl? Purity was a  _ villain _ . A killer, like  _ them.  _ She probably enjoyed hurting people. Gave her some twisted pleasure in the act because something bad happened to her and she couldn't stand it. Like  _ them. _

Why the fuck should she risk her life to save her? Besides, she was fighting  _ Lung.  _ He turned into a freaking  _ dragon  _ of all things. That villain was as good as dead.

“Look, I know it sounds bad, and I can't believe it either, but she is trying to go hero, or at least  _ seems _ to be. Look, the point is we’ve sort of teamed up with another person to hit the gangs where it hurts them and if she dies right now then it all goes to waste. Especially since she's one of the few capes who can  _ really _ hurt Lung.”

Taylor was still doubtful. Maybe this girl wasn't a nazi but that didn't meant that she could be trusted. Taylor crossed her arms and looked at the girl, trying to make her message clear.

_ Why the fuck should I trust you? _

Shadow Stalker seemed to get her message and huffed a quiet “for the love of…” then began to quickly and frantically rip a piece of her costume, surprising Taylor. The partially exposed arm showed the black skin beneath the costume.

“You see,” she said waving the arm. “I'm black, so I’ve got extra reasons to hate that bitch and yet I  _ still _ want her to stay alive because I need that racist bitch in one piece. So I get it, you don't trust me and you definitely don't have any reason to, but you have to believe me that if Lung kills her then this whole city is about to get worse than already is.” She took a breath and continued. “I need to get there fast and you're the only cape I know that can teleport and I  _ need _ you even if it hurts to say so. So can you, please, please help me,” she said almost  _ suppliant _ and really aware of it— hating every second of it.

Taylor thought about it. On one side, she was about to risk her life to save a  _ nazi  _ of all things, and considering her rap sheet, Purity probably had it coming if she was burned to death by Lung. Taylor had no obligation to save her. On the other side, Stalker had a point in that Purity was one of the few capes that could hurt Lung, but that didn't mean she was going to take at face value everything Stalker said. Sure she was black, which raised some eyebrows about why she teamed up with Purity, and seemed to have heroic inclinations, but Taylor still wasn't going to trust her. She met her what, like half an hour ago?

_ ‘What would a hero do?’  _ Taylor thought. ‘ _ What would someone like Legend or Alexandria do?'  _ She pondered for a few seconds and reached a conclusion. To be truthful she had no idea what the hell Legend or Alexandria would make of this situation, but she at least knew that they wouldn't run away from this.

_ They wouldn't let her die, _ she decided at the end. They would at least try to take her on. Arrest her, not kill her unless the law dictated that she was too uncontrollable to apprehend and..Taylor didn't think that she was. And if Stalker was right and she wanted to change…

A hero wouldn't let someone die if they had a chance to save them.

She nodded her head to Shadow Stalker. ‘ _ Let's do this.’  _

She looked at her for a few seconds before she reacted. “Wait, really!?” the other said surprisedly, only to stop and correct herself. “I mean, thank you, I-I meant it." She coughed in her hand before talking to her once again. "Here's where I need to go, can you take me there?” She told her where, and Taylor confirmed it. It wasn't that far. She grabbed her hand and signaled to the other girl to get closer to her.

They disappeared the next second.


	6. Hunt 1.6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor meets a clown.

**Hunt 1.6.**

Taylor thought she was going crazy. No, scratch that. She was definitely crazy in order to do this. Risk her life to save  _ Purity _ , from  _ Lung _ of all things? Yeah, her mom was right. She should go back to the therapist, at least to stop shit like this from happening again.

_ 'God, mom is going to kill me if I die.' _

Lung was taller now, enveloped in fire and roaring to the skies; a monster now more than a man. He wasn't alone either; flying figures were around him, throwing lasers and attacking him with everything they had in hand. They were were all dressed in similar white costumes and Taylor knew them well. Impossible not to if you lived in the Bay all of your life. New Wave.

They used to be a hometown hero group called the Brockton Bay Brigade that had operated in the city back in the “bad old days” where villains reigned and people needed heroes the most. Their fame grew after they captured Marquis—one of the Bay’s most dangerous villains— and for preaching a message of accountability without secret identities for the heroes. An ideological movement that would have revolutionized the way capes were seen by the civilians, by reminding them that behind the masks were people with failings and not paragons of truth and justice. They renamed their team in honor of that dream and revealed their identities in public, hoping that, soon enough, it would become something widespread.

Sadly, the dream ended before it even started when the public reveal led to its most crushing yet logical conclusion. Someone tracked one of the heroes of New Wave, Fleur, in her civilian home and brutally murdered her in retaliation for “ _ the crime of not respecting the terms of engagement between heroes and villains.”  _ The message revealed that they had attacked Marquis in the privacy of his home and stolen his daughter from him, thus they deserved punishment. She was stabbed and tortured to death, and by the time she expired, the body of what was Fleur was barely recognized. She was found in the basement of her home hanging by a bloody hook and naked, with her body full of weird markings and several parts missing. New Wave went on the warpath, furiously trying to capture all known associates of Marquis, who they blamed for the death of their companion, while trying to defend their homes from former lieutenants and allies of the villain as well as rivals; furious about their actions and eagerly chasing retribution or wanting to kill the young girl as well, as a way to have revenge against the incarcerated crime lord.

Finally, when the attacks started to cause enough collateral damage, the PRT intervened and stopped the attacks, however they forced the young girl away from them for her safety and threatened the hero team to stop their chase if they didn't want to be thrown into jail. They managed to keep their independence, even if barely, and the girl was moved to the foster system.

Sadly, what started as a dream ended in tragedy and New Wave became a cautionary tale about secret identities. They had children and they continued the family tradition of accountability without masks, but nowadays, people rarely thought of them. They were a shadow of their former selves, but were still one of the few things keeping Lung from destroying the rest of the Docks.

“She isn't there,” Shadow Stalker said. They were moving to their chosen point of destination, when the still-unknown member of her group had called to inform them that she had to move from her spot, since some Protectorate heroes were clashing with capes from the Empire. “But he’s still chasing after her.” They were anxiously waiting for her teammate to inform them where they were now. “Purity, I mean,” she clarified for Taylor. “He's smart enough to know that if he actual kills one of New Wave or the Protectorate, then shit starts to rain down on him. But nobody would give a shit if he kills Purity; well, Kaiser would. But nobody gives a shit about him anyways so he doesn't matter.” She kept quiet after that and Taylor watched as the battle unfolded. It was pretty obvious even from there that Lung was big enough to simply not care about their attacks anymore, but if they retreated then he would simply burn down the area to smoke out his prey, killing not only his intended target but also countless civilians that lived in the area. New Wave had to buy time for the PRT to finish evacuating the area and for Protectorate reinforcements to come, but the E88 were making the situation complicated.

Stalker’s cellphone received a text and she pulled it out. She read it once and showed it to Taylor, who nodded and grabbed her hand before blinking in the direction the text had indicated, while trying to resist the ugly feelings and pain from her power.

She realized she hadn't felt the Voices for a long while and that Sally was also unusually quiet, with no flashes of awful memories or horrible urges and negative feelings assaulting her. Did that mean that they had enjoyed the pure clusterfuck that this night had been? How she hurt those gangsters and Oni Lee? How the blood poured…

Did that mean that in order to get peace and a normal life she had to keep doing this forever? This whole violence and anger and having to constantly run away? The struggle to remember who she was? She didn't want to experience this anymore. She  _ hated _ this. 

She didn't want powers. She didn't ask for powers, yet she still got them when others probably prayed for them every day. How was that fair? That someone that didn't want anything to do with the capes became one and others didn't.

And how was it fair that pieces of shit like Lung, Kaiser or Othala got useful powers that could do a lot of good but instead used them to destroy lives?

It wasn't fair, she realized. Because life never was, and in the end, the only thing she could do was make the best with what she got. She had to, because if she didn't she could honestly say that the path ahead was too dark to see.

The final blink lead them far away from the fight on the Docks and on top of one of the most run-down buildings Taylor had ever seen. With its cracked windows, ugly and worn down paint and several contrasting gang signs on its walls, it looked on the brink of being demolished. And, in an almost surreal image, standing on the rooftops, an eye catching figure stood, with her skintight and revealing pink clown costume and jester hat, her appearance made the rot and age of the building even more noticeable.

When Taylor and Stalker landed on the roof, she just looked at them, impassively and unimpressed. Then, looking at the latter, she just told her, “You look like shit. Also you’re late.”

■

  
  


She introduced herself as Circus, a hero vigilante for fun and profit, then explained how fucked they all were. Taylor couldn't help but think that her costume was kinda cool and was a little jealous of how the tight-fitting costume made her look so good.

She was also rather pissed that Stalker involved Taylor, a “newbie” according to her words, in dangerous cape business on her  _ first night out _ . She made clear that they were about to go on a dangerous operation that could end up with her death, but she relented a little when Stalker told her to “shut the fuck up and listen to me clown bitch.” Even after that, Circus still tried to tell Taylor how high the stakes were and how dangerous it was for her, and told her she could leave if she wanted to. Taylor was, understandably, rather tempted to take the offer and get the hell out of here, but she decided to stay, even if all of her instincts screamed her to run home. Because she believed that was what a hero would do.

After dCircus agreed to let Taylor help, but not without making clear to Stalker that they would “talk about this later, whether she liked it or not.” Then they started to hash out what they were going to actually _ do. _

“We’ve been causing some trouble to Lung recently,” Circus said as they stood in a circle on the roof of the dark and old building. “He likes his whores quiet, so drugged they can't even recognize themselves, and without any form of freedom whatsoever. Sadly for him we objected to that, and Purity needed some good PR and since kissing black babies was out of the question, we decided to rescue some girls.” She shrugged and started twirling a bat that came out of nowhere. Taylor couldn't help but be a little surprised at the sudden appearance of it.  _ Her power, maybe? Some sort of personal dimension perhaps? _

She pointed the bat at the area where Lung was still fighting the heroes, only now it seemed that more figures were fighting him at a distance. The Protectorate had finally arrived. "She's in one of those buildings, probably one of the desolate warehouses of the area, according to what she described to me." She paused a little bit, probably for unnecessary dramatic purposes, and then continued. "She managed to get away from Lung once she noticed it was a trap designed to kill her but Oni Lee suddenly returned and put an end to her escape." She twirled her bat to point to Taylor. "I guess since you're helping us and you're a mover then  _ how _ we rescue her is easy. We just need to give you an opening in that mess so you don't die. Think you can do it ehh, I'm...fuck, do you seriously don't have a name or can't talk looking like this?” Taylor just nodded and Stalker just shrugged. The rush of the whole situation. "Shit, okay, that's going to make this stuff a little bit difficult. We need a name. Also, haven't you tried to give her one, Stalker? You know, to make this whole thing easier?" Stalker just shrugged once again, with a feeling akin to  _ satisfaction _ rolling in small waves from her. Taylor got the hint that she didn't like Circus very much and that the feeling was mutual. The addition of Purity to this group made her wonder how they even managed to function as an actual crime-fighting team, if they disliked each other so much.

“We were a little busy running away from Oni Lee to try and find a temporary name for her, you know?” Stalker crossed her arms and looked at Circus as if she could set Circus on fire with her eyes. Probably wishing she had that power as well. " Also my power isn't working right since one of those assholes shot something in me. It's probably tinkertech. Know something about that?”

"Ummm, maybe? I don't think it's from the new tinker of the ABB since she seems to have a thing for bombs," Circus said, completely ignoring Stalker's worried shout. "And if she had made that thing inside of you then you would have blown up a while ago when Ghost Girl was with you."

Ghost Girl? Did she mean Taylor? It was, in her opinion, a really lame name, but she guessed it was fitting for now considering she  _ did _ look like a really creepy ghost. However, that did bring up another concern: if she was really considering doing this cape thing long term, then she really needed a proper name. Hopefully a good one that would make her heroic intentions clear rather than a very edgy one. 

Wait… a bomb!? Did that meant Shadow Stalker was about to explode or something!?

"Calm down," Circus said before Shadow Stalker could let loose what she was about to say. "I heard one of those dumbasses that Lung hires say that he bought something for you from Toybox, that tinker group. He said he wanted to 'make an example out of you' and he probably thought that getting blown up wasn't enough of one."

"That still doesn't make this whole situation better. I still can’t use my  _ power." _ Shadow Stalker spat out.

Circus just shrugged. "Lucky for us, we don't need your power that bad for this rescue mission. Me and Creepy Ghost Lady here are going to do  _ all _ the heavy lifting. You just need to sit tight and shoot some arrows at whoever is bothering us, okay  _ sweetheart _ ?"

Stalker started saying something, the words just coming out of her mouth when Circus spoke once again, her voice a little rushed but full of something that could be called amusement. Taylor knew by now that there was no way that she wasn't doing that on purpose. "Don't worry about it. I'll take you to that doctor and he's going to make it all better, sweet. Deal?"

Taylor could hear Stalker’s teeth grinding, her muscles tensing, manifesting her obvious desire to punch the lights out of the clown woman. 

Also Creepy Ghost Woman?  _ Seriously,  _ fuck this power. Also fuck Circus. Taylor at least didn't have a choice in how she looked while Circus willingly  _ choose _ to look like a  _ porn clown. _

Shadow Stalker finally spoke once again.  _ "Deal, _ " she finally said. A lot of unspoken words in it. All of them ugly and insulting.

"Now can we please go back to what we're actually doing? You know, trying to rescue our partner before she gets burned alive?" Circus voice was mocking, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in it. Stalker just nodded. Angry, unsatisfied with how the conversation went, but still willing to compromise.

"Okay," the clown girl said. "This is what we're going to do. First step is going to be the easiest one: just grab her and get the hell out. The second one, however, is going to be a lot harder, which basically boils down to not dying…"

They continued planning and got ready to go. However, the feeling of unease and that this was a grave mistake never left Taylor.

  
  



	7. Hunt 1.7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor goes to rescue a damsel in distress

**Hunt 1.7**

Taylor was done with this shit.

She was tired and wanted to go home and this whole rescue thing looked more and more like a mistake by the second.

_“Fuck me, fuck them and fuck this whole fucking city,”_ Taylor thought as she stood on another roof getting her bearings back. “ _If I survive I'm going to stop doing this for a whole week, if necessary. Fuck the killers.”_

Taylor looked at the section of the city around her. This is what Brockton meant to her; it had been home all her life. It was her birthplace and the city where she’d grown up but it wasn't the type of home one yearned for after a long journey — the kind of place with a warm fireplace, the smell of home-cooked meals and a loved one waiting for you eagerly and with open arms. No, it was the opposite of all that.

If she had to pick a word to define what it was like living in Brockton Bay, it would be _work_ . Hard work. The kind that went into maintaining one of those dingy and run down apartments that were scattered around the Docks and did nothing but show how low Brockton Bay had fallen. You had to spend hours cleaning and fixing one of those to make it look decent and homely just for a little while, but no matter what you did, the apartment was still old and shitty and how much you cleaned it and fixed it didn't change that fact. And awful as it was you still had to live in it and maybe with time, some little love, and a lot of hard work you could make it your home. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn't ever shake the sensation that there was still something _better_ outside. Something that didn't require so much work and was somewhere nicer.

Taylor had lived in a shitty old apartment like that when she was young after her dad lost his job and their house was partly destroyed in a gang war between the ABB and the Teeth. Even after returning to that old house where she grew up— now all fixed up and more pretty— that feeling that there was something better than Brockton Bay started to appear and never really went away.

Being here, doing this whole hero thing and looking like a ghost in a horror movie made that feeling so intense that she wanted nothing but to run away. Was this what every hero felt before jumping into action? Was this anxiety, this need to run away something common or was this just her nature and the fact that she _really_ didn't want to do this?

_"This was supposed to be an easy night,"_ she thought, fear and irritation soaking her being, while her pale and decrepit hands shook. " _Just beat up some thugs and leave the rest to the more established and experienced heroes. Just thugs and no capes. This hero stuff was supposed to be something easy and separated from my actual life, not...this_." 

Not with her life actually on the line. Or someone else's.

“ _Focus, Taylor.”_ She could have slapped herself. She wanted to but she didn't trust that she would actually feel it. Physical damage and some sensations had a tendency to be dulled in this form. “ _Just do this and you can go home, then to school where people aren't psychos and won't try to kill you.”_

"Are you ready?" Shadow Stalker asked at her side. Her tone uncharacteristic soft. It was almost alien to Taylor’s ears when it came from her. In the _very_ short time the cape had interacted with Taylor she had managed to make the impression that she didn't use soft tones very often. Something made even more clear by the awkwardness she was ruthlessly trying to squash in her voice. She was clearly someone not used to being compassionate.

Her question hung in the air for a few more seconds before Taylor just nodded. No use delaying the inevitable. She extended her hand to Stalker and the next moment they were gone. The fight was still going strong, with the Protectorate and New Wave still engaging Lung. Only Purity was absent.

“If the Protectorate doesn't hurry up then the only thing left here are going to be ashes.” Shadow Stalker mumbled. “Of course, they're all a bunch of fucking useless pussies that take orders from a fat pig so no big surprise there.”

Taylor tried to not listen to the comments, but since that was virtually impossible with her power, she just just settled in ignoring them. Stalker’s relationship with the Protectorate wasn't any of her business and she wanted it to _stay that way_. This night had already involved her in more cape matters than she wanted for a year, and the last thing she needed right now was to involve herself in a feud between the main heroic organization of the country and a vigilante that somehow found it acceptable to team up with a murderous racist. One that she had to rescue right now.

"Look there," Stalker said, pointing to the fight. More fire and destruction, nothing knew she hadn't seen tonight. Nothing she wanted to particularly remember anyways.

They stood on another roof covered by shadows and only illuminated by the dim lights of the streets. A lot of them were flickering, while other lampposts lacked the proper light bulbs. Taylor knew that if she went to one of the nicer places in the city then all the lights would be in a decent shape and the walls wouldn’t be covered in graffiti of gang signs and beatdowns at every corner. Another thing that made her really unhappy, to be reminded how far the city had fallen. That made her want to grab her GED and get the hell out of this awful city and its inherent ugliness.

Now the streets were also awash with the dim light of the far away living fire that was Lung. He was huge now—practically the size of a small building — and the Protectorate and New Wave were still fighting him. If Taylor wanted to, she could have heard the sounds of it as if she were there, standing and fighting next to them. She didn't though; it would have been too distracting, too terrifying. She was still aware of them though, like a constant background noise. 

“We’re here now, so we only need to wait for Circus’s signal and go to the building that Purity tells us to.” Stalker spoke in a hushed tone as if fearful that one of the capes fighting nearby could hear. With Lung more beast than man that could be a real danger. " She says that Oni Lee’s still chasing her and that she's low on juice. I'm actually pretty fucking surprised he hates us this much. That bastard must have _really_ liked some of those whores we released.” She paused a little to recover some breath and continued. “Circus is in charge of luring him away and siccing him on a hero for a pounding. _Then_ and only then do we make a move," she finished and stood at her side. Tense and ready to jump. Probably wishing this night was over just like her.

Taylor didn't sigh or move to answer, so they stood in an awkward silence, waiting for the call or text that would eventually break the silence and allow them to finally move. Taylor hoped Circus was okay, for all that the impression that Circus had given her and the lame name she had branded Taylor with tonight was annoying, the fact was she probably didn't deserve getting blown up or stabbed by Oni Lee. 

She didn't want that clown girl to get hurt; the truth was that she had lots of doubts about the plan the plan. It wasn't too complex and because of its simplicity she doubted it was actually going to work. It relied too much on Circus getting Oni Lee’s attention and then managing to make a hero notice him and fight him so Circus could escape. In the end it would b _e pure fucking luck_ and Circus’s skill on evasion that would decide whether or not this plan was a complete fucking failure.

Of course the fact that she gave her one of the most simplistic hero names she’d heard in her whole life and that she admitted she did this whole hero thing for “fun and profit” made Taylor suspect that Circus— or Shadow Stalker, who was oddly quiet and presented few objections when Circus started pitching her ideas for this…operation— wasn’t one of the greatest strategic minds of this age, and that she was effectively insane.

A sudden crashing sound was added to the cacophony of chaotic noises that Taylor was simultaneously desperately trying to keep away, while giving some minimal attention to them to keep up with any important shifts in the brawl nearby. It disrupted the fragile harmony she had managed to find and by extension disrupted _her._ At her side, Stalker’s phone started to ring. Moments later, she picked up and listened for a little while before dropping the call and looking at Taylor.

“Ghost? It’s time to move out. Circus managed to sic Glory Girl and Laserdream on Oni Lee, so it’s our turn now.” Then she showed her phone with a map and a location marked on it. "It’s right here, close by to one of the buildings owned by that dockworker union that’s nearby." Ghost. The name Circus had christened her for tonight. It was fitting if disliked by her. Not a name she would pick for a hero but she was forced to admit that she had no idea of a better one. She hadn’t had one for a long time.

And the location...the DAU. Her father used to be the head of hiring and spokesperson. He always complained about how there were so few jobs now, how the economy in the city was getting worse and worse. She remembered the fights he and mom used to have. How sometimes her mom insisted on her sleeping at Emma's for a night or two. Or how once, on a rainy night while she was being picked up, her mom asked if she wanted to go visit her grandparents in a "just girls trip." They never visited her grandparents, in fact they weren't even mentioned around the house. 

She missed him _so much._

She grabbed Stalker’s hand after she put away her cell phone and she was confident on the location that Purity was in. They blinked the next second, with Taylor eager to finish the night.

She was tired, frustrated and wishing that people would stop trying to kill her. She just wanted to stop and get rid of this annoying form and be herself. Yes, that was what she most wanted. Stop being Sally and return to her own awkward, tall and little feminine body.

That and a quiet night after a week of pure nightmares and little sleep. Just that. Her own body and a quiet night.

Then she would be happy and ready to resume her actual life.

■

  
  


Purity didn't look like Taylor expected. Her fault, mostly. Years of growing up in the city famous for its exportation of nazis and unresolved serial killings gave her what could be called a “default image” of what a genuine white supremacist should look like when she pictured one in her head.

The first were the skinheads, with their bald heads and ugly tattoos. The majority of them did what they did out of base sadism and the chances of letting loose their most violent and depraved urges in an environment that would reward and encourage such acts. They just put on the image of doing it for a major cause that they, supposedly, believed as a way to justify and excuse themselves. 

The _other_ type of white supremacists and Nazis were also, from her point of view, utter sadists that took great joy on hurting minorities and gay people, but they believed in the shit they preached. These ones, as she always pictured them in her mind, weren't the type that went around beating people up on the streets; they instead were assholes with cushy jobs and nice clothes that looked and behaved normal until they looked at you and their faces twisted themselves to match the ugliness inside of them. These ones always looked blonde and blue eyed— the classical european look— and because of her high position she always imagined that Purity looked like that. She was surprised when this turned out wrong. 

Purity was a mousy brown haired woman that looked shorter than average. She was hard to look at for longer periods of time with her power activated but not enough for her physical characteristics to be completely hidden. The opposite of what she expected, because instead of a tall blonde goddess with ivory skin, a common short woman with a bleeding leg stood before her. Kinda... underwhelming to be honest.

Then that common underwhelming woman almost blew their heads off after they appeared inside of a derelict, old warehouse. Purity launched a blast of pure light that made Taylor’s skin burn and her eyes blind for a second. All while failing to nail her head by an inch.

“Fuck, fuck!! You fucking nazi bitch. Why don't you look at who the hell you're shooting before doing it!?” Shadow Stalker growled, holding tightly to Taylor’s hand. The latter could hear how the former’s heart seemed ready to burst out of her chest.

Purity lowered her glowing hand. “Stalker?” she said slowly. “Who’s with you? Is that the new girl Circus told me about?”

“Yeah, she's with us. Her name’s Ghost so calm the fuck down before you kill us both.” The girl relaxed a little but still tightly gripped her crossbow with her slightly shaking hand. 

Purity coughed and tried to stand up. Her left leg was wounded and covered with a bandage that was now soaked in blood. Taylor heard the small whimpers Purity made at the pain of it but wasn't sure if she should help her. She was still broken in half about this decision and even if it made her unheroic, she didn't want to touch the white supremacist mass murderer

Shadow Stalker advanced and went to help her with some hesitation. She slung the arm of the older woman behind her back and slowly walked back to Taylor.

As they grow closer, Purity looked at her and talked. “Ghost, right? You have my thanks. Oni Lee proved to be more vicious tonight than expected. So for helping my team for getting me out of this...situation I owe you one and-”

She only avoided the attack because she was, partially, expecting one. They teleported just as the next attack almost connected on them, fast and deadly.

Before doing so, Taylor managed to see what was attacking them. ‘ _Was_ _that...paper?’_

They appeared on the outside— on the roof of another warehouse that could be seen from the window on the one they just left. However, they had no rest.

The windows, the doors and a cracked part of the roof of the warehouse below burst and waves of paper were released to the outside, forming a small living sea beneath them. 

"What the hell?" Shadow Stalker muttered.

"I-I don't know what that is," Purity said at her side.

From the paper a figure emerged, their body made of interlocked and folded paper sheets. Still forming, still changing. Barely looking like a human.

A half formed arm rose and paper from the sea below rose with it. They danced in the wind before joining together and forming whips and forms with sharp edges.

A throbbing pain interrupted Taylor’s observations and she looked at the origin of it. Her bonesaw arm, to her surprise, carried a fresh looking wound that was bleeding.

That...had never happened before. Physical attacks had practically no effect on her so why…?

"We need to get out of here, Ghost," Purity said, trying to grab her attention.

The blood of the wound kept pouring. The paper arm fell, and with it the onslaught began.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left in this arc. We’re so close I can almost taste it. Thanks a lot to Fwee and Juff for making this chapter readable.


	8. Hunt 1.8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night is finally over

**Hunt 1.8**

She never thought she was going to die because of a papercut.

Now, seeing an enormous quantity of floating — and seemingly  _ alive  _ — paper that could actually hurt her made Taylor pretty fucking nervous about the possibility of such end.

The paper whips and stars fell, aiming at them, but the moment they reached the roof Taylor had already disappeared alongside her two companions.

Didn't change the fact that someone else was trying to kill them.  _ Again.  _

The paper mass shifted and the half-formed person above it shifted, moving their arms again. From the inside of the mass new paper sheets rose and folded themselves until they looked like birds. They immediately started giving chase.

Taylor and the other two appeared on a roof, a moderate distance away from that...thing. The birds immediately turned towards them, flying at increasing speeds. Taylor nervously noted how sharp their talons and paper beaks were and wondered if they would harm her just like the initial attack had. That arm had stopped bleeding a little while before but the red gash across the limb still remained, as a reminder of what would happen if she got hit by one of those sheets of paper.

Purity's hands shone as she shot several rays at the birds. They made contact with some of the birds and incinerated them but a considerable number of them deftly dodged and kept coming in new flying paths that made bringing them down more difficult.

Stalker looked at the birds, aimed, and shot at some of them. She growled and cursed as most of the shots failed to reach their intended targets.

Taylor, meanwhile, could only stand around feeling impotent. What could she do? She only had her bonesaw and the effects it caused, right now. She was useless like this.

But that didn't mean she was out of options. She had some— they were full of risks and possible bad endings if she wasn't careful but... shouldn't she at least try and see what happened? Both Purity and Shadow Stalker were fighting for them to survive the night, shouldn't she do the same?

Maybe she could…peek a little inside. Someone that could shoot the paper person or just the birds. Someone that could fight at a safe distance. It would be worth it if she managed to help.

She went deep inside of her own self, searching for what she wanted, and eventually found it on a door in which a lullaby could be heard.

_ The forest was cold, and covered in snow. She was hungry and cold. She didn't want to hunt but mother said they had to hunt. They were almost out of food and if they didn't return with something then they would starve. _

_ They found some tracks and eventually they found their prey. An elk. Big and proud. It terrified and impressed Anna at the same time. _

_ But she was hungry and her mother said they had to kill it.  _

_ Then before she could kill her hesitation the elk roared and- _

"-re you listening to me!! Ghost what the hell is wrong with you!? We need to get out of here!”

Taylor left the memory behind and remembered where she was and  _ who _ she was. She knew that it wasn't smart to try and change when the emotions were high and dangerous, especially if she wasn't herself. Especially with a new one like this woman; with them the memories were always too immersive, too vivid. And that always gave the Voices too much power. 

And she could still hear the lullaby, as if it was a never ending background noise. It was small and didn’t annoy in a way that could be called significant but it was _ there.  _ A constant reminder of how dangerous and untrustworthy her power was. She also wondered what would have happened if she had stayed longer than that in that memory of the past. Maybe besides the lullaby she would also feel the chilling cold on her bones like Anna did? Or perhaps that insidious hunger that Anna felt? The kind that led one to desperation and made you feel like your entire body was eating itself?

Trying to change into another killer had been a bad idea from the start, especially here in the middle of a battle. Did she have to be such an idiot? Honestly she was behaving like she  _ wanted  _ to di-

She interrupted that train of thought and took a deep breath. She needed a distraction to avoid thinking of that. Of everything, if she was being honest.

And what better than the giant paper monster that was trying to kill her?

She turned her head to see what Stalker wanted and the girl pointed out to the sky shouting for attention. Above, Purity was shooting down more and more of the birds, but when she noticed that their numbers weren't decreasing she changed tactics.

"Can't you do something? Some tricks that you have besides the teleportation?" Taylor shook her head and Stalker cursed while she pulled out her cellphone.

Above them Purity kept evading paper scythes that quickly came after her, while her hands glowed brighter once again. This time the attack was directed at the paper person leading the mass.

The lasers went through them, searing a considerable part of their body. Paper sheets burned and fell to the floor, however as they did more raised themselves from the paper mass and tried to spear Purity. She frantically flew back and kept shooting beams at the incoming projectiles. 

“Fucking shit,” Stalker murmured while looking at the paper mass. Taylor glanced there and immediately wished she could curse too. 

It was regenerating. Sheets rising and interlocking, connecting to the intact half and reforming what was lost. In moments their enemy was intact once again.

Purity flew back, closer to them than to the enemy. When more paper tendrils and whips grew close she kept shooting them down. It seemed like a dance to her eyes. A bright and deadly one.

"We need to get out of here fast! Ghost, stop spacing out and take us out!! Purity stop trying to face that thing and let's get the hell out! Jesus fuck people, it feels I’m the only one useful here and I’m the powerless one right now.”

“No need to be so vulgar, Shadow Stalker,” Purity said as she descended. As she touched the floor Taylor could see her wince and grit her teeth out of pain. “You’re correct in that I can’t defeat that cape or construct right now but that doesn’t mean we’re out of options to run away yet. Do we know anything about Circus?”

As they talked Taylor glanced at their enemy and to her surprise she found it quite unaggressive. Instead of attacking them the paper person stood there, watching them, surrounded by dozens of blank paper sheets. An ominous image that fit with the lullaby song that was still on her head.

“They sent a message while you shot those birds down,” Shadow Stalker said. “They got in trouble with Brandish and Armsmaster. Something about endangering minors with their reckless behavior and vigilantism. They tried to bring them in but they managed to escape them. They also said Lung seemed to be retreating after all."

"I see. Do you think that one is Lung's?" Purity said pointing at the immobile paper person.

Stalker shrugged her arms and then started loading her crossbows. “Who knows? It’s trying to kill us so maybe it is... but of course it could also be from your ex as a punishment for slumming it with us, the freaks of nature.”

Purity ignored that last comment and kept talking, but the subtle grinding of her teeth didn’t escape Taylor’s ears. “I see. I guess that if Circus doesn’t have any alternate solutions, then running away seems like the most tempting solution. However our enemy seems keen on following us everywhere we go, and I don’t think it cares for collateral damage. It’s going to put people at risk.”

"Well I don't see  _ you _ coming with a better idea besides trying to kill it with lasers and that didn't work. Besides," Stalker paused before continuing with a smug tone. " _ Now _ you care about collateral damage? Just imagine all those buildings are full of black and gay people and I'm sure all that guilt is going to go away. Alright?" Before Purity could retort Stalker pointed her finger to Taylor, who was watching the eerie image of the paper person standing standing still, while the whole mass of paper stood below. From this position, and with several whips and scythes coming from it, the mass below looked more akin to one of those ocean monsters from those old spooky stories she used to read. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Stalker continued talking undeterred even at the fury of Purity's gaze. "Ghost is mute with her power active and she doesn't seem to have some trick or skill that would help. We already endangered one of the heroes with Circus's stunt and you're wounded. Unless you have a better plan we need to get the hell out." 

The paper started shifting. Subtle at first, only noticeable if you could hear the soft sounds of them quietly touching each other as they moved. Taylor could, and that was why she immediately grew alert at the possibility of another attack. 

Stalker and Purity kept arguing, unaware of what was happening, but in moments the quiet sound became more frantic and noticeable and soon they were also on guard. By then the paper conglomerate and individual started to lose their shapes and they began to...peel away. First some pieces split away, dancing in the wind. Soon more and more pieces started to join the dance until nothing remained still and a whirlwind of paper stood before them.

Watching them, Taylor couldn't help but think that the coordinated way they moved together in the shape of a ring above them in the sky was beautiful, if scary.

Before anyone could say anything else, and to the surprise of the three of them, the paper ring suddenly burst and each one of its little pieces were scattered by the wind, leaving nothing behind.

As if the battle had never happened. 

“What the hell just happened?” Shadow Stalker said, voicing everyone’s question.

Sadly no one had the answer.

■

In the end, Taylor reflected, the night didn’t end with the explosive bang she had expected, but rather a quiet whimper. It was better, in her opinion, since she was honestly rather tired of loud noises for an evening.

Circus eventually found theirs teammates and after regrouping they thanked Taylor, and agreed they owed her a favour for helping them even if she didn't have too. Stalker even wrote for Taylor her PHO handle and Purity gave her a short speech about independent capes being short lived if they didn't have teammates or joined the Protectorate or one of the other hero teams in the area. Taylor half-heartedly listened to it and after they took off to treat their wounds she immediately turned tail and blinked away, never once looking back. 

She reached her house in minutes and sharpened her power to see if anyone was around. When she felt safe that there wasn’t anyone, she focused on the house and didn't relax until she felt the quiet and rhythmic breaths of her sleeping mother. She went around the house until she could see the window of her own room on the second floor. Then one second to the next she disappeared and appeared inside. Safe. Finally in a place she could ditch this awful body and go back to how she used to be.

What an awful night this had been.

She took a breath and once again went inside of her own self. Only this time, instead of going to one of the doors, she went somewhere else. Half of her attention was on her room while the other was inside of herself, “touching and searching” the limits between her body and Sally’s. She found it pretty quickly and then once she felt secure she was touching it, she did something she could only describe as a sort of push and pull. A part went way and the other was simultaneously pulled in.

The body of the Nurse started to quickly fade away into black fog and the only thing that remained was the awkward body of Taylor Hebert.

God, she missed it. 

Without any more thoughts Taylor changed and dropped into bed, wishing to have her first nightmare-free night in a whole week.

And as she closed her eyes and drifted to a quiet sleep, the lullaby followed her to her dreams, where only black fog, and nothing else, existed. 

  
  
  



	9. Hunt Interlude: Shadow Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia just had the worst night ever.

**Hunt Interlude: Shadow Stalker.**

Shadow Stalker managed to sneak into her room in her old and ugly house, and the first thing she did was throw herself at her bed, with her costume and everything.

Tonight had been one of the shitiest nights of her whole damn life and, given the completion, that was saying something.

Fuck. Tonight it was supposed to have been an  _ easy _ night. Just go after some some gangsters and remind them that trash like them didn’t get to do whatever they wanted just because the sun was down. Teach those rats that the shit they pulled had  _ consequences _ and make this city a little cleaner, a little better. Someone had to do it, and since the Protectorate was too busy doing photoshoots, why not her?

Then those losers showed they had brains after all and figured out her weakness like in one of those shitty, stupid comic books her dumb brother liked to read. They managed to shoot her with that tinker dart of whatever and leave her powerless, of all things. It was  _ humiliating _ . That she was taken down by thugs, of all things. Not by an experienced cape with strong powers, but to a dumb thug with a  _ lucky shot. _

The fact that she had to be rescued like a damsel by a  _ newbie,  _ of all things, made the humiliation stronger and made her feel even more like shit. She was supposed to be a survivor, a huntress, not a fucking  _ victim _ . 

She thought she was done with being the helpless little girl that needed to be rescued…

Standing up, she quickly threw her mask off her face. After quickly changing she rapidly hid her costume and weapons in that empty hole between her walls. The relief she felt at seeing her power working well and right was indescribable.

That creepy doctor Circus and Purity had taken her to explained that since they didn't know the effect of the tinkertech in her, there was a chance that that she wouldn't be able to use her power correctly for a while, or in the worse case, at all. After hearing that she had to be held down by Circus to not strangle that fucking creep with a lab coat. 

Didn't help that Circus and Purity told her several times to "calm down and let him help her." What the fuck did they know of what she was feeling? None of them knew what it felt to be deprived of their own powers, how...  _ weak  _ and  _ vulnerable  _ that could be.

She was above that by now. She had to be. She— even as Sophia Hess— was a  _ predator _ . Someone who hunted those who wronged her and would clean this disgusting city.

She growled and tried to breathe, to think of something else to calm herself down, but she couldn't. The wound of her weakness was still fresh in her mind and it wasn't going to go away anytime soon. 

Fuck, she needed to do something, to go out there and find some relief from this  _ constant _ feeling of helplessness and insecurity, of anger at those mooks who hurt her.

She wanted nothing but to suit up once again, find those assholes and nail them to a wall. Pieces of shit deserved nothing else for supporting a monster like Lung. Assholes couldn't face her when she was in top shape so they need to make her weak and helpless to stand a chance. Just like those girls she rescued. All victims, those sober enough screaming and crying, while the others were drugged to the top of their heads. Fucking disgusting what was done to them. Fucking disgusting what they were forced to become too. Another proof that the gangs were poison in this city.

Rabid animals all of them. And you only did one thing with those. You had to put them down. 

Sadly, she couldn't. She was told to "take it easy until she fully recovered." The scar of the operation was still fresh and while the doctor gave her something to stop the hurt and to keep her up and going, it, unfortunately, didn't mean she could do what she did best.

She couldn't even go for a run. The thing she loved most after her cape activities. She, apparently, had to be grateful she could even  _ walk _ after what she had gone through. What a fucking joke.

Frustrated but unable to do anything about it, she searched for her headphones and put some music to listen. As she heard the rock music in low volume, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Tomorrow she had school and her old hag of a mom wasn't going to let her stay in, she just had to recover her strength and hopefully leave all this shit behind.

And for a few minutes she felt she did. The anger and helplessness inside her slowly quelled and she started to fall asleep. In peace and safety finally. Alone.

And then her work phone started to ring.

_ Riiiiing. Riiiiing. Riiiinng . _

She tried to ignore it but the rings were like nails in her head and she wanted to  _ just go to sleep. _ And her family was asleep too. The last thing she needed was them in her cape business.

She reached for her phone and accepted the call knowing exactly who the asshole was.

"What?" she snapped. She hoped this chat would be short and to the point. She was too tired for his usual brand of bullshit.

”Shadow Stalker. I have heard what happened to you from Circus, and Doctor Carter reported to me the result of your surgery. How do you feel?” He paused a little bit before continuing. Sophia wondered if he did it on purpose to annoy her. “I’m aware his bedside manner is...lacking.” As if he cared. His smooth voice and his whole “benevolent benefactor” thing didn’t charm her. She knew what kind of _ thing _ he was. 

“I’m fine,” she grunted, not caring if it sounded rude. If he figured out that she wasn’t in the mood for his shit even better. “What do you want?”

“Both Purity and Circus reported that they received vital help from a new cape. A changer and mover apparently. Do you have an opinion about her? They reported she was mute, correct?” he said, straight to the point. Good, the faster they ended this, the sooner she could go to sleep. Still, she wasn't sure how much she was willing to tell the snake what she knew of Ghost. Well, she didn't know much about her, but the thought of involving someone else with her  _ boss _ made her stomach turn and twist.

Didn’t help that she didn’t know what those two said about Ghost either. She knew that at least Purity wasn’t happy with this… arrangement they called a team, and Sophia was sure it was something beyond the fact that she was black or that neither of them fully knew Circus’ preferred pronouns. No, in fact she was sure that Purity saw this whole thing as some sort of twisted atonement for all the things she did back when she was Kaiser’s favorite bitch. As if this would help to make up for all the people she killed. No, it was something else. Something relating to their boss. He probably had something she wanted and was constantly threatening her with it. A cape with the power of Purity didn’t have to take commands from anyone, after all.

As for Circus...honestly she had no idea. She knew they were unhappy too with this whole team thing but Sophia couldn’t help but think that it was more the fact that they were more of a solo player— something she could respect from experience— than any personal dislike she had for them. However, that made her wonder. Was the paycheck simply that huge for them or did they also have something being held against them? Sophia didn't know, and in the end made her trust Circus less. Ironic, that while distrustful of both of them, she trusted the  _ nazi  _ more than Circus. 

Neither could be trusted in the end. So she had no choice but to say the truth this time, but at least the positive side was that she didn’t have that much to share anyways.

“Yeah, she couldn't talk and apparently this was her first night. I expected her to be shitting her pants considering all that was happening but, surprisingly, she showed good instincts. In the end I was even doubting that she was new.” There, her report. Now she hoped she could go back to sleep.

“I see,” he said, all smooth and fancy. She could feel the headache already coming if this conversation was going to last a little longer. “I'm aware that you gave her your PHO handle. Do you think she's going to contact you?”

Sophia shrugged and stretched, trying to hold the yawn that was coming. “Who knows. Maybe? Purity gave her the whole ‘independents die early’ speech but I don't know If she was listening. I would bet on it though. At least to learn the ropes of what a cape does.”

“I see. And her powers?” Hadn’t Circus and Purity already told him? Or was he just being an asshole as always?

“She’s a mover, carries a bloody bonesaw and for some reason looks like a creepy ghost out of horror story. Besides that I know nothing.” 

He hummed a little before answering. Interesting. “Well, I’m glad you three managed to get out alive of such dire situation. Rest tonight and heal your wounds. You and your team shall receive new instructions next week. Good night.”

“Good night,” she mumbled too.

_ Fucking Coil. _

She wasn’t charmed by him and he probably knew it. Being blackmailed to join his big secret organization would do that to a person. She wasn’t even sure how he knew of that man she found on one of her first nights, and the fact she still hadn’t figured out his power meant that the answer could be right in front of her and she’d be unaware. She was sure he was either a thinker, a master or an infiltration kind of cape— a stranger, she thought they were called. Either way he was dangerous and he knew things. Things nobody was supposed to know.

The fact that she felt that she was doing meaningful work working under him didn’t ease the pressure. The Wards were children at best with their naivety on how the world worked and utter morons at worst regarding their thoughts of their organization’s efficiency, but at least their employers weren’t going to put a bullet in their brains if they didn't comply with orders.

Not like she had a say in such things, but Sophia—contrary to her own mother’s opinion who was always comparing Sophia to her “more” successful cousin, Claudette— was anything but an idiot. Just because it wasn’t outright stated didn't mean that the implication wasn’t there.

Coil had a leash on her throat and maybe on the throats of her teammates, and just because it was loose now didn't mean that it would stay that way. She needed a way out before it closed and she choked to death. 

It wouldn't be easy, but she had to get out. There was no way that working for Coil much longer would have a happy ending for her. She couldn't trust her teammates but  _ maybe _ she could trust someone else.

It would be crazy to involve a newbie, but her options had been few from the start. Especially since she was 70% sure that Coil had moles on the PRT and the Protectorate, and there wasn't any other organization strong enough in the Bay to provide worthwhile protection.

No. She had to figure out this herself. Like she always did.

She  _ would  _ get through this. She was sure of that.

She was a survivor after all.   
  



	10. Daylight 2.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor gets ready for a normal day as a student.

**Daylight 2.1**

She woke up at the sound of her alarm with a bleary yawn. The first one in a week, after many sleepless and nightmare-filled nights. She usually woke up screaming, or with sobs she tried to hold down. The fact that she actually managed to get one nice quiet night meant a lot to Taylor.

The lullaby had stopped sometime in the night, and Taylor was glad for that. The killers’ egos were always stronger the first times she used them, and Taylor had never used that woman’s in all the months she got her powers. It got easier once she went through the memories. As they say, the first time is the one that hurts the most. However, despite all of that, she finally got what she wanted, even if it was double-edged.

It also meant that she had to repeat the events of last night forever, or until she managed to find a way to get rid of her power, but for now she was okay with that. She would worry about that later. For now she had to do something _normal_ , something a girl her age would do instead of a cape.

She had to go to school. It was weird to be wishing that, but after a night filled with terror, explosions, and _fighting villains,_ she was grateful for a bit of normalcy.

As she stretched and headed to the bathroom she heard noises on the first floor and realized that her mother had probably woken up already. For a second she wondered if she had also woken up in the middle of the night and had noticed that her daughter was missing and hadn't returned until early hours in the morning. What thoughts had crossed her mind if she did? What emotions had seized her body. Terror? Anguish? Anxiety? All of them were possible and dangerous emotions, which made Taylor feel even more guilty for sneaking out to fight crime, and made her dearly hope that her mother hadn't decided to check on her in the middle of the night as she sometimes did. 

Her father’s passing and the events surrounding it had scarred them both; her mother had gone through a period of grief and sadness and then jumped to one where she focused fully on her work and Taylor, to the point that one could call her a little _too_ involved in the life of her daughter, with strict hours and notifications every hour about where she was if it wasn't in school, with friends she knew and approved, or with Emma, who her mother considered family. Taylor knew that her mother did it because she was worried and afraid, all too aware of how unsafe Brockton Bay had become in the last few years. She didn't want her daughter to die and leave her like her husband had done. And Taylor understood, so she kept quiet and didn't protest or challenge Annette. It wasn't a perfect arrangement but for now it worked well enough.

She didn't regret not telling her mom of her powers, though. She would have insisted that they go to the PRT for help and she would have signed Taylor to the Wards without a second thought. She’d have only given a token effort to listen to her grievances and, immediately after doing so, sign her in anyways, even offer some well thought arguments about why joining the Wards would be the best option for her and for her future. They would even look appealing for Taylor at first and make her actually consider joining, but in the end she would definitely reconsider and end up regretting everything.

Taylor knew her mom wouldn't care. The safety of her daughter was paramount in her mind. A necessity and objective that even trumped her desire for her daughter to be happy. 

Taylor knew she could present excuses and reasons about why she didn't want to join— including the intrinsic mechanics of her power and its unheroic nature— but she knew that in the end her mother would ask if she was planning to go out there and fight criminals. Taylor was very aware she would not be able to lie to her mother when she looked at her face and remembered how much she cried at her father's funeral, and how would it hurt when she threw at her the fact that she was putting her life on risk to fight criminals with power, and that she would die just like… just like her dad.

Killed by a cape.

She felt warmness on her cheeks and when she touched them her fingers returned wet. She was crying. She sniffed and brought a tissue to her face, trying to clean the tears that just kept flowing— making worse that constricting pain in her chest that was brought back thanks to painful memories. She choked down a sob and tried to hold down the rest of her tears and painful memories trying to come out, without much success.

It was impossible not to, after all.

_Emma was holding her hands against her mouth, stopping Taylor from screaming. They were shaking just like Taylor’s but they didn't lose their hold. Neither did Taylor's. Tears were running freely and their hearts were pounding in their chests. They were terrified of the very real possibility they could die very soon._

_They looked briefly into each other’s eyes and joined their hands in a hold so strong that it was hurting them. Emma's hands were clammy and too warm and her delicate and long nails— painted perfectly in soft pink with a technique Taylor never managed to pull off— were digging in her skin in a very painful manner._

_Even still, Taylor felt better this way. It felt like Emma was her lifeline, her connection to the world of the living. And she needed that. Needed something to stop being paralyzed and to stop herself from doing something she would definitely regret. She hoped Emma would feel that way, that she was a lifeline for her too. Because if she wasn't, then she would be useless if Emma decided to finally give in to panic and scream._

_Outside, soft steps echoed on the floor and the smell of rusted iron filled their nostrils. It was the man with the black robe. He stopped right in front of the closet where they were hidden and Taylor felt Emma’s nails stab into her. Taylor gritted her teeth and tried to hold down her whimper of pain and fear._

_He paused and turned his head to the side, and for a second she feared he’d found them. She swore that for a few seconds her heart stopped, and that she was about to be killed. Just like uncle Alan…_

_Then the man took a step away from the closet and kept moving through the house. His pale mask and bloody knife were seared in her mind._

They buried Alan a few days later, followed by her dad after he flatlined at the hospital three days after that. The day was sunny and business kept going as usual. The culprit, a journalist that worked on the Brockton Journal, was caught by the PRT and arrested. News was that he was sentenced to the Birdcage for his grisly murders. Taylor remembered watching the news, seeing his cheeky and self-satisfied smile on TV, and how angry she’d gotten. How _utterly furious_ she was that a murderous piece of shit like him got to live while her dad and uncle Alan didn’t. How he laughed when Alan fell dead screaming and her dad shouted at them to _run like hell a_ nd t-then he probably had _…_

The PRT nicknamed him Ghostface, and in the following nights that face would haunt her dreams and thoughts, filling her with raw hatred for him, his powers and everything he represented.

What happened after the wake was a parade of constant ghosts that passed through Taylor, leaving her cold and with empty platitudes and condolences. Saying things like _I’m so sorry_ or _I can’t begin to understand what you’re feeling_ , or _he was a great man_ …

Words without substance, only air, and spoken not out of true sentiment but rather social norms. It made her feel simultaneously angry, sad and completely alone at the same time. She never had that many friends, and with Emma doing her own grief process, that only left her mom among the people she trusted and she was also too busy mourning the man she loved.

That went by until one day she was at her lowest. She commited one action she would regret for the rest of her life, and she came out so much worse.

She got the powers she once wished, but her dad was still dead and she had to forever interact with the kind of people that took a piece of her life from her. And she was like _him_ now, a cape. And the fact she had something in common with a mass murderer that liked to take selfies with bodies of his victims made her sick and even more tired.

She realized her powers would never be accepted by the heroes as long as villains like the Butcher existed. Still, and in spite of that, she decided to go out and be an independent hero, when she wanted nothing but to forget everything that had happened, and the powers she got because of that, and return to normalcy. Even if it was a stifling and fake

Finally, after realizing she had done nothing but mope for the last five minutes she decided to just move on. She first went to the bathroom, and after seeing how awful and tired she looked, she decided to put on her makeup, which Emma had bought and she rarely used. She hoped her technique wasn’t too clumsy. People easily realized how tired she truly looked. Like her mom. She really didn't want to talk about her feelings and possible nightmares she had right now.

She fixed herself, picked a nice pair of jeans her mother had bought her a week ago, even if it was a little tight, a shirt she liked and finally she put on a nice blue sweater that Emma picked for her that time they visited Boston together. She tried a few smiles in the mirror, found one that didn't look too fake, forced herself to fix it in her mind, and went down to the kitchen to face the day.

■

  
  


Her mother was waiting for her with bacon and eggs, with a nice smile as the side dish as well.

“Slept well?” her mother asked while leaving the food and a glass of juice in front of her. She sat in front of Taylor with her coffee and a plate of her own, her work bag beside her.

“Yeah,” Taylor said, giving her practised smile. “Kinda eager to go to school actually.”

“Oh,” her mother said, lifting one of her eyebrows. “Surprised to see you so enthusiastic since it’s Monday. “

Taylor just shrugged as she ate. “Just...eager to start the day, I guess.”

Annette just nodded and smiled as she drank from her coffee cup. "Nice to know that. Also Zoe called, she’s going to be here in exactly fifteen minutes so hurry up and eat your breakfast."

They ate in silence for a few moments before her mom made a surprised noise while she perused what looked to be a page in her cellphone.

"Ummm," Annette murmured. "Did you know there was a huge confrontation between the ABB, the Protectorate and an unknown group of capes last night? "

_Yeah, I was there,_ Taylor thought but didn't say _._ “Are you still checking PHO?” she said instead.

"They have useful information once in a while, especially in Brockton Bay where the cape population is oddly high compared to other cities with similar population ratios. It’s not all shipping charts, bad fanfics, and versus boards, sweetheart." She sighed and kept drinking her coffee. "Still, last night was bad. According to the thread, Lung burned down several houses, and while the heroes managed to evacuate a lot of the people living there, he still managed to kill some."

Taylor clenched her hand around the fork as she kept eating. _I was there_ , she thought. _I could have done something. I could have saved some people_ . _Fighting criminals and sating the killer's urges for violence wasn't the only reason I started to do this._

"Honestly the city has really gone down hill," her mother continued. “It is becoming more and more like all those years ago when serial killings that managed to confuse the heroes were happening." She paused and finished her coffee before looking at her daughter. "It's important that you don't go out late or, if you do, go with someone else and stick to the populated areas the heroes patrol, okay sweetheart? I don't want anything to happen to you."

Taylor just nodded with practiced ease and kept eating. When she finished she brushed her teeth and got ready to go to school.

"I'm going to return a little late today," Annette said. "So I expect you to either be at home at the end of the school or at Emma's _. If_ you have to go somewhere else, you know the rules. You call me every time _unless I tell_ you beforehand not to. And if you do call me then l we discuss if you can go anywhere and with whom."

Taylor gave a practiced "sure Mom" and nodded. Her mother just smiled and kissed her forehead.

Not a minute later a car horn blared outside and Taylor rushed to grab her backpack. "That must be Emma. Goodbye Mom, I love you." She hugged her mom and Annette returned it warmly and effusively. "Goodbye Little Owl, I love you too." Annette slowly separated herself from Taylor with some hesitation and looked her in the eyes. _Something's happening,_ Taylor realized.

"Taylor," she started slowly. "You know you can tell me anything and I won't judge you right?"

Taylor froze and a horrible coldness seized her. Did she know something? And if she didn't should she say something? Her mother was the last family she had in this world and lying to her left a horrible taste in her mouth and made her feel like pure shit.

_I'm a cape,_ she wanted to say with desperation _. I fought Oni Lee and rescued a nazi last night. I escaped from a paper monster and almost got killed like six times last night. I have a group of serial killers inside of me that are actually my powers and talk to me or I'm either going crazy and you need to lock me up before I snap. Actually, there's a huge chance that I'm both. So please_ help _me. I don't know what the hell I'm doing._

She of course didn't say anything. She wouldn't; her mother might look composed and put together but Taylor could see the cracks in her facade. The wounds were still there, her mother had just covered them with a calm and focused mask until she could truly heal. And one thing she thought could actually break that mask was that list of revelations. So no, she couldn't reveal all that to her mother. For now, this was her burden.

"I know that Mom, but I'm fine," she lied. "Really. Now bye I'm running late! Love you!" She turned and ran. Hoping her mother didn't see the flicker of hesitation and sadness in her face.

"Goodbye, little Owl. I love you tons and _please_ be careful out there," she murmured.

Taylor kept going to meet her best friend. They’d face the day together. 


	11. Daylight 2.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor tries to be normal for a day.

**Daylight 2.2**

“She's seeing someone. I just know it.”

“You can't be sure of that Ems. I mean, you're saying that because of what? That she's smiling more? “

“Yes! Because of that and a lot of other things too. She told me the other day that she was going out "with a friend" but she was way too dressed up to go out with either aunt Annette or one of her bitch friends. It’s almost disgusting how little she tries to hide that she’s already screwing someone else after… you know.”

“Oh...Well, maybe she’s just in a good mood.”

“No way. She's definitely sleeping with someone. Probably a younger man considering how she smiled at the cashier at the market the other day. Gross. He would be like my brother or Anne’s boyfriend.”

“The redhead one?”

“No! Even more yucks. He’s our age for fucks sake. I mean the hunky one. With the blue eyes you could definitely get lost in and those arms that could hold you really tight. The one that's definitely a college student. Not like it makes it any less gross. He’s probably the same age as Anne.”

She did, and Taylor could understand if Aunt Zoe wanted to do that. Blue eyes you could definitely be lost in, a toned body that spoke of care and hard work and a smile that made her think of honey, the sun, and good times to be had made him really appealing to her eyes. Too bad she was way too young for him and looked like a plain and way too tall frog lady.

Taylor sighed, closed her locker and turned to her best friend that was beside her. “So, let's 

say that she's hypothetically seeing someone right now. Are going to say something to her or skulk around trying to take pictures or something?” She turned to go and Emma quickly followed her, linking arms and playfully tugging her to one side. Taylor rolled her eyes and tugged her back before continuing together to class, not minding the stares. 

“What do you want me to say? Hey Mom are you being a complete slut and fucking someone when your husband, my father, was  _ murdered _ in our own house no less than five months ago?” Emma spewed, words full of anger and vitriol. Taylor just gave her a sad smile and a small tug as they continued to slowly walk. “So no I'm not saying anything. I’m gonna let Anne take care of that when she comes home.” She paused a little, showing surprising embarrassment before continuing. “And...maybe see if I can find evidence around the apartment that she‘s seeing someone.”

“Evidence? Like what?”

“Like, maybe, uh… some used condom or something like that?” she said with some hesitation.

Taylor looked at her to see if she was joking and after a few seconds she realized with astonishment that her friend definitely wasn’t. “What the fuck Emma? Are you serious?”

“Don’t judge me,” she hissed. “Your mom isn’t the one that’s screwing another man while the f _ ucking corpse of my father  _ hasn’t completely rotten away.” They finally reached the classroom and disentangled themselves from each other. It was still too early to go in so Emma leaned against a wall and continued talking. Her eyes were a little glassy and wet, but she was clearly trying to ignore that, twisting her red hair. Looking at her like that, Taylor couldn’t help but think of her as the image of vulnerability. She wanted to reassure her that everything was okay, and that Aunt Zoe definitely wasn’t sleeping with anyone—even if it was highly probable that she was according to what she had overheard when her parents were discussing the state of their friends’ marriage. However, despite how fragile Emma looked, she didn’t do anything. She respected the boundaries she had set a while ago, and this was among them. She didn't like to feel like a comforted victim — no matter that Taylor didn’t see her like that — and that meant that she had to leave Ems to recover on her own in situations like this, even if she didn't like it.

Students passing by were glancing their way and Taylor noticed the position they were in — Emma leaning against the wall with her eyes glassy and red and Taylor at the side with a serious expression. They practically looked like they were having a fight, and some people even looked concerned, but Taylor didn't care; it was just her and Emma right now.

Emma eventually pulled herself together and managed to wipe her eyes, then gave Taylor a smile that reeked of fakeness and plasticity. For all that Emma was good at posing for the camera when it came to photo shoots, the truth was that she wasn’t as good an actress as she thought she was. Not like she was trying to fool Taylor anymore, though she was still concerned that Emma’s acting was good enough that Aunt Zoe wasn’t capable of seeing that her daughter was skipping sessions with her therapist. Or that she was spending more and more time at Taylor’s house. Or that she had visited her old house many times, just standing on the outside watching it, for entire minutes sometimes, with her feet moving in the same place, her desire to go in as obvious as if the house was a siren, holding Emma under its thrall, pushing her to go inside and relive her nightmare.

And she’d almost gone inside one day.

"So what’re we doing after school today?" Emma asked with false cheer.

_ "You _ are going to do something else. I’m gonna be busy, remember. I have a project I need to finish for Cape Studies."

"Oh, right. That thing," she said, suddenly bored. “You guys are still with it? Me and the girls finished it like days ago.”

"Yeah, well. You guys have Claudette who practically had an essay on Miss Militia since middle school. I got the angry track star and the guy with a memory deficit or something like that." 

She winced. “Oh right, Hess and that weird guy. Jim, or something?”

"Chris," Taylor said.

"Oh right,  _ Chris _ . Is he alright with you? Because I talked with the little creep for, like, a minute and I'm pretty sure his eyes never moved  _ once _ from my boobs. Little creep."

Taylor sighed and glanced down at herself _.  _ "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be fine. Also we should definitely get in. Class is about to start."

Emma groaned. "Can we just wait for a few minutes and keep talking? It's Miss Norris we’re talking about. She practically comes to work half-asleep every morning. Come on,” she whined, “please?”

“Fine. What else?” She was right though, old Miss Norris was one of the veterans from Winslow after it was closed down and, although she was (in Taylor’s opinion) a good teacher, Taylor imagined she was probably used to working with kids with very little interest in her class. She probably wasn’t bothered by the lateness of some of her students, or even her own. At least for now.

“Oh, right. I remember now. Tell me if Hess says something to you. I heard from a friend of Meg Tomas that she’s a really aggressive bitch. They said that Meg said something to her and that girl had to be held down by the rest of the team to stop her before she tried to beat her up. She’s a crazy bitch. “

“She’s… sort of intense, but seems okay for now. Nothing weird.” She sighed. “Can we go in or do you want to keep talking about something else?”

“Well,” Emma drawled. “I was wondering what you’ll be up to this weekend?”

_ Probably bashing some criminals on the head while looking like a psychopath. “ _ Nothing much, why?”

“Well, there is this party... “ she started.

“Pass,” Taylor interrupted.

“Oh, come on. You almost never come with me. You’re my best friend and I want to go with you. It’s at  _ Dean Stanfield’s house, _ Taylor. Come with me, it’s going to be  _ amazing _ .”

“Emma, you know I-”

“At least think about it, okay? Just do me this one favor, pretty please? For me?”

Taylor thought for a second. “Fine, for you.” Emma opened her mouth but Taylor interrupted her once. “I’ll think about it. No promises”

Emma just pouted and shrugged. “Fine, I’ll take that. Also just to get this out of the way-”

“Emma…”

“I think you should come with me to kickboxing class. Those are great you know.”

“Are you still going to those? Seriously?”

“Yeah! You should too. It's very fun.” 

“Uhhh…”

_ Fists pounding meat. The sound is lovely, and the image of flesh being pounded and leaving marks is beautiful in his mind. He sees how the blood comes out and his hands tear off flesh, making more blood come out, and the face of the man blooms like a red flower. The body was still now, and that meant he could finish in peace. _

_ Watching what he had done he could only think one thing. “Beautiful,” he said. _

“Nah, I think I’m fine, really.”

■

It was time for Biology class and for Taylor that was a good thing since it meant she could sit with Claudette Morel.

They were standing side by side in their lab coats over the corpse of a dissected frog. Claudette’s distressed and squeamish face contrasted with Taylor’s indifferent one as they observed and studied its insides. They worked peacefully while others around them talked. Taylor was used to it, and appreciated these moments before one of them dared to speak to the other. For Taylor, in particular, these moments were even more special since she was constantly surrounded with outgoing individuals that were constantly talking and making plans. Being around other introverted people was particularly relaxing and comforting. Made her feel okay for not enjoying the same things that Emma did at times.

The fact that Claudette was her friend only made that better.

They kept working in peace until Claudette opened her mouth and hesitantly spoke to her. “So, uh, did you r-read that about that fight, in the Docks. Last night?” Her voice was, almost like a murmur, and she didn’t look Taylor in the eye when she spoke. Instead she pointedly looking at the opened frog, even when her disgust was clear in her eyes.

Taylor held back her grimace and regretted that of all possible topics, Claudette had decided on the one that she was desperately trying to avoid.

“Yeah,” Taylor said simply. “Uh...quite a mess, right?

Claudette quietly bobbed her head. “Yeah,” she said quietly.

They remained quiet for a few more seconds before Taylor spoke again. “So tell me, did you find any interesting plants or flowers?”

Claudette perked up and after a moment of hesitation, started talking a little more animatedly about the flowers her parents had bought her as an early birthday present. Apparently they had one like that in Montreal before they moved to Brockton Bay, but they had been forced to leave it behind. The scientific name of the plant flew over her head, and she wasn’t that interested in the subject, but hearing Claudette being so passionate about...anything actually, was a nice change of pace.

“So, hey you like superheroes right?” Taylor said, having come up with a terrible idea. “And Miss Militia is your favorite right?”

Claudette smiled and nodded. “Y-yeah. I like them quite a lot. I, well, I managed to get Narwhal’s autograph once,” she said with a shy and awkward smile.

“Really?” Taylor was genuinely impressed. The leader of the Guild and member of the Protectorate had a reputation as a hardass that never took time out of costume.

Claudette bobbed her head. “It was at a PR event... My dad got us tickets. Dragon even showed up in one of her suits to give a short speech. She was really nice and sweet, even if her suit was a little terrifying.”

Now Taylor was genuinely jealous. Dragon was known as the greatest tinker in the world, and for good reason. When she was a child, Dragon was the type of hero she always wanted to be. Kind yet strong. Now, while the dream of being a hero like Dragon was dead thanks to her power, she would still like to emulate her actions and attitude. Or at least the face she showed in interviews.

“Okay that’s amazing,” she admitted. She needed to get to the point but curiosity got the best of her. “Did you meet more heroes?”

“Well, Alexandria was supposed to make an appearance but a crisis arose in L.A. so she couldn’t come. Umm, other heroes from The Guild showed up, like Masamune and Starburst but they aren’t that famous. Oh! Legend made a showing at the end of the event to give thanks for assisting but he didn't stay much, still he was so- _so_ _cool.”_

Before Claudette realized she was being outspoken, Taylor spoke. "Okay, so do you know much about the local heroes?"

Claudette paused, then kept drawing the insides of the frog. "Um, well...I know about some of them. The cool ones I guess? Some like Battery and Triumph are...nice I guess? But they aren’t very, umm well…" She struggled as if searching for the appropriate word. 

“Remarkable?” Taylor supplied.

“Oh, yes. Remarkable I guess, their powers don't seem as interesting as the ones like Miss Militia and Armsmaster and they aren’t as relevant compared to the others. So I don’t know a lot about them. But I know  _ a lot  _ about Miss Militia. Did you know she was Kurdish and a child soldier before coming to America?”

Taylor didn’t know that— nor did she particularly care, but she couldn’t say so to Claudette when she was excited like this. She was, however, interested in somebody else.

“And Shadow Stalker?” interrupted Taylor before Claudette could once again tell her Miss Militia’s tragic origin story. "Do you know anything about her?"

The other girl blinked in surprise and hesitated for a second before answering. “I know very little, to be honest. In PHO she's classified as a vigilante and apparently she defeated some cape from the Merchants or maybe, it was the Empire? I don't know, really.”

“I see, anything else you remember. Like her powers? They always post those right?”

“I think she… phases into things? I don’t remember, to be honest.” She paused for a little before continuing. "But there was something else on her page. Apparently she’s known for violent behavior and, well, there are... rumors, I guess, about something she did. Something… bad."

Now Taylor was curious. She wasn’t sure Stalker was entirely sane and she probably didn't have the best relationship with the Protectorate, but she couldn’t imagine what she could have done that was so bad.

"What does the rumor say she did?"

"She killed someone."

■

Class had ended and after brushing off Claudette's curiosity about why she was so interested in Shadow Stalker, Taylor went to the bathroom and stared at the card with the cape PHO handle.

For a second she thought about ripping it up, throwing it down the toilet and forgetting that Stalker had ever left any means to contact her. If she met the girl once again in costume then she would try to pretend she forgot or play at being mute. 

Taylor didn’t want to be associated with a suspected murderer. Even if it was only a rumor.

And even if it wasn’t, the truth was that Shadow Stalker’s negative attitude and commentaries when it came to other heroes were also very troublesome, and could reflect poorly on Taylor if she continued to associate with her.

In the end it would be better to just throw it down and let the water take it somewhere else. It would be the smart thing to do but…

Capes that didn’t team up tended to die.

She stared a little more at the card and then put it in her backpack where it used to be.

Normal. She had to be normal today.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reaaaaly should be more up to date in this but oh well


	12. Daylight 2.3

**Daylight 2.3**

If someone had asked Taylor to describe Sophia Hess with only one word, that word would be, without a single shred of doubt, “bitch.”

Hostile, blunt, aggressive, and, for some reason, constantly ready to beat the shit out of someone were also words that could be used to describe her.

Not like she cared about what anyone thought of her. Something she made quite clear when everyone who talked to her for just a minute asked her what the fuck her problem was .

Now she was stuck with Taylor for the next hour or so, in order to complete this stupid project Ms. Herson had asked them to do. It was due the next day, and Taylor couldn't help but think that there were a hundred more interesting and important things she could do with her time than sit around doing a boring school project about some Protectorate hero called Prism, who apparently was favored by Legend for some reason. She wanted to do Alexandria, or maybe Dragon, but the former was banned just like the other members of the Triumvirate, and the latter was already taken by another group. So, now she and the others were stuck with a boring hero with a list of achievements and feats that required much more research and effort to find than she was willing to give for this particular project.

Honestly, she was so bored of reading her life history and achievements, that she wouldn't mind just copying and pasting the whole thing if she wasn't completely sure that Ms. Herson would realize it. 

She sighed and looked at her project partners. _"Well,”_ she thought, " _at least Chris is helping instead of sleeping and Sophia isn't insulting him for once. That's good.”_

Too bad that good in this case was also a synonym for quiet and tense. Neither Sophia nor Chris wanted to be here and it showed.

To be fair to them, she didn’t either

In fact, she was so bored that even Emma’s crazy idea of spying on her mother seemed tempting compared to her current activities.

Taylor kept reading and writing some of the heroine’s accomplishments, wishing for some sort of release from this nightmare, when an awkward voice broke the suffocating silence. “So,” Chris hesitantly spoke while typing on his laptop, “What are you girls doing after this?”

Sophia snorted and looked up from the newspaper she was reading. A faded picture of several members of the NYC Protectorate was printed on its front page. Taylor remembered that one, something to do with a cult of capes that believed themselves to be magicians or something. “Why the hell do you care what I’m doing after this?”

“Just trying to make some conversation, you know. No need to be so rude.”

Sophia rolled her eyes and sneered. “If I ever wanted to talk to you, nerd, then I would. Now can you do your goddamn job and keep writing about the time this bitch saved a cat or something? I have things to do and none of them involve _you.”_

Chris narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth. God, _not again_ . The last thing she needed was _anothe_ r argument between those two. She had expected that Chris would have learned by now that Sophia wanted nothing to do with him and that asking nicely and politely wouldn't change a damn thing about her general attitude. Before he could say anything Taylor interrupted him. “Can we just work in peace?” Taylor interrupted. “All three of us want to be doing something else with someone else so can we just… shut up and keep working please? The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can go.”

They both stared at her for a second before Chris sighed and nodded, continuing his work. Sophia just scowled and muttered a quiet “whatever” before doing the same.

Taylor sighed, a little surprised that they actually did what she told them, but still grateful for it. She turned her eye to the flat screen of the computer and the boring articles she was perusing. 

She sighed and started typing once more. Hopefully her work would drown the oppressive and awkward silence that had, once again, settled between them. 

■

They finished the project and went their separate ways. Or so she thought, seeing as Sophia Hess was waiting for her.

“Hebert,” she said. “Heading home?”

Her voice… for some reason, Taylor was now realizing that Sophia’s voice sounded similar to someone else. But whom?

“Yeah,” she answered. “Why? What do you want?”

This was odd, to say the least. Sophia almost never went out of her way to interact with anyone. At least not in a friendly way. In fact, now that she thought about it, Sophia had been very… subdued wasn’t the word and friendly wasn’t either, but she was definitely less hostile to Taylor compared to how she treated Chris.

Or maybe waiting threateningly and asking ominous questions was how Sophia Hess acted friendly. Which was worryingly possible, now that she considered it. Especially since she was alone with Taylor in an abandoned hallway right at this moment.

"Nothing much." Sophia shrugged with indifference. "I'm coming with. That's all."

"Coming with?" Taylor said. 

"Yeah. Our bus stops are close," she said, walking away from her. However, after a few seconds she realized that Taylor wasn't following her "So," she repeated annoyed, "are you coming or no?"

Taylor thought about it for a few seconds, then just shrugged and followed her out of the school. At first she thought that following Sophia Hess anywhere was a bad idea, but if she was actually going the same direction as her then it was pointless to try to do something. Not like she could stop her or anything. 

After a few awkward minutes walking to the bus stop, Taylor tentatively spoke to her. "So why did you want to walk with me? And how do you know where I live?”

“Well,” Sophia started. “The second question is simple. I asked my cousin.”

“You have a cousin. And I know them?”

“Yeah. Little girl with glasses. Looks like a kicked puppy half of the time, has a weird thing for plants and she's practically a mute with how little she talks. Does it ring a bell?”

An image popped in Taylor’s mind. She only knew one person who was a match for all those characteristics, unflattering as they were. “Claudette?” she asked Sophia, who just nodded. “ _Claudette_ is your cousin?” she repeated even more incredulously. Just imagining that Sophia— the track star who couldn't help but pick a fight— was somehow related to Claudette— who couldn't even look you in the eye when you talked to her— was simply ridiculous.

"Yeah," she replied. "She's the daughter of my aunt from my father's side, but I don't really know her. Whole family fucked off to Montreal before I was even born. Don't know why the hell they decided to come back though. Leaving Brockton Bay was probably the best choice my aunt made in her whole life. Returning was just plain stupid."

Taylor didn't comment on that, even if she agreed with Sophia on this case. She didn't understand, or even want to, how someone who managed to get out of this hellhole would consciously choose to _come back._ All her life, after being aware of what kind of place was her hometown, Taylor had been of the opinion that one of the best gifts she could grant to her future children was, simply, the possibility of growing up in a safer environment— far away from gangs and in a more economically stable city. As such, the idea of someone coming back to this place to continue raising their family just unnerved her.

"And the answer to the first question?" Taylor asked, vexed by the bizarre situation she was in and the out-of-character behaviour Sophia was presenting. She was just being so... open about her motives and even, maybe, a little friendly? It was really baffling.

Hess just shrugged. "I was curious. Heard things about you, not only from Claudette but from many others too. Made me think you and I aren't so different. That in a way we're both similar."

"In which way?" Taylor asked, curious.

She smiled. "In that we're both survivors," she said, as if stating a fact.

Taylor paused. _What_. "Survivors? What the hell that's supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what I mean. We both went through some awful shit and we got out of it _better._ In this world there's two kinds of people. Those who get stronger once they go through a crisis, and those that get weaker. The first ones naturally come out on top every time because they _learned._ I've been watching you, observing you, after they told me what you went through, and I have to say that I'm completely sure you are the same as me."

"A survivor?" Taylor repeated.

"Yeah. I'm sure of it."

Was this some sort of sick joke? A way for Sophia to get off from annoying her? She didn't feel better. Her father was dead, her mother and best friend were pretending to be okay but were obviously not and she had powers that tormented her.

She wasn't better. In fact she was worse than before. The only difference was that she was just as good at pretending like Mom and Emma.

But… what she said. Did that mean that Sophia had passed through something similar to her? Had someone hurt her family just like that man had hurt Taylor’s? She had to know.

“Does that mean that- “ 

_Ring. Ring. Riiiiinng._

Sophia sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She gave Taylor a tired "hold on for a second" and answered the phone.

"What," she snapped.

After a few seconds her face contorted in anger and looked ready to snap at the other person on the phone. However, at the last second she took a deep breath and seemingly calmed down.

“Fine, I’ll be there. But you owe me one.” She turned to Taylor with an almost apologetic look. “That was...a coworker. Today was supposed to be my day off but apparently something came up and they need me.”

“Oh, okay,” Taylor said, unsure of what she should say. 

“But,” Sophia said, typing something on her phone, “this is my number. Send me a text so we can keep discussing this. I know you know I’m right even if you doubt it right now.” The moment she finished talking, Taylor’s cell phone rang.

“How-”

“Claudette gave me your number. See ya, Hebert. Gotta run.” 

Taylor stared at Sophia as she went away, just dumbfounded. 

_“What the hell just happened!?”_ she thought, as she stared at the new unread message on her cellphone. 

■

She stared at the PHO page while her hands hovered over the keyboard of her laptop. A million words were at the tip of her fingers but right now she was unable to express even a single one.

She was still doubtful of Shadow Stalker and her whole deal, but she didn’t really know anyone else. She definitely wasn’t eager to go out alone after what happened last time and… well, Shadow Stalker _did_ offer to help her in this whole cape business.

But the idea of joining a team—even in an unofficial way—made things too… real, in a sense. The whole parahuman thing was supposed to be on the side, so it wouldn't interfere with her actual life, but after last night she wasn't so sure anymore.

Not getting involved wasn’t an option and, well, she didn't have many of those if she persisted on being a hero. Brockton Bay never had a huge influx of heroes and nowadays only two teams survived the passage of time: New Wave and the Protectorate. The first one was practically at the brink of collapse, while the other wasn’t really viable for her.

She sighed and started writing. Her final product wasn't something she would be proud of but it did the job of expressing what she wanted. It was short, succinct and to the point. Gave a no-nonsense attitude she thought Stalker would appreciate, and which Taylor wished she could express in her still-nameless cape persona.

Job done she stared at it for what it felt like hours, thinking that this was a bad idea. If she did this then that meant that her cape activities where going to take a more important place in her that life than the one she wanted. It meant that she was going to go out and be seen as a hero or vigilante. And of course, the PRT would notice her existence and would seek her cape identity for answers to who she was and what were her intentions. It could also mean hiding more things from her mom who already worried too much for her.

It would mean many more things but...she couldn't stop, not really. Her powers wouldn't allow it. For weeks she had wondered if doing non-lethal takedowns was going to be enough. They loved violence and the pain of others and forcing her to kill others in gruesome and twisted ways was something she could definitely expect from them. It was their nature to be cruel.

It was surprising that she managed to get a nice night of sleep after not killing anyone last night, but she wasn’t going to complain. As long she could get away with just sending them to the hospital instead of the morgue she would do so but, she was also aware that it definitely wasn’t going to last.

She _had to_ keep doing this. At least for now, until she managed to find a more... permanent way to end this. A way to get rid of her powers.

Steeling herself she took a deep breath and clicked on the “send” button.

She couldn't back off now. 

  
  



	13. Daylight 2.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to hunt.

**Daylight 2.4**

Stalker answered the message later that night. The message was short but to the point, and maybe a little dramatic.  _ “Meet me tomorrow near the Boat Graveyard at midnight. Don’t be late.”  _ Reading those simple words filled Taylor with nervousness and dread. It felt like she was crossing the point of no return to a place she wasn’t sure she wanted to be. 

Taylor stared at it for a few minutes before writing her answer and hesitated a little when she was about to finish. In the final part of the message, she was about to add that she was going to show up like last time, looking like the Nurse but… shouldn't she try to use the others a little more? She wanted to object to the part of her that wanted to explore more of her powers, that felt some sort of  _ curiosity _ for these monsters, but the sad truth was that she needed their powers and abilities. She couldn't depend forever on just the Nurse; she needed to branch out a little. To face their words and memories and make them her own.

She would start with just two, to expand her pool of abilities a little, and with some time she was going to get them all. She was going to be the one completely in Taylor knew the first one she was going to use

She just needed to hear the whole song and survive the cold for this one. 

She sent her reply to Stalker and went to sleep, her mind uneasy, and going to that forest and that song knowing she would hear them once again.

■

It was Tuesday, and school passed like the blink of an eye, only interrupted by a couple of events that made her wake up from her daze. 

Emma and Madison asking her about the party at Dean Stanfield’s house was one, and just like last time she answered with an uncertain “I’ll think about it,” much to Emma’s disappointment and Madison’s puzzlement.

“You _ have _ to go Tay. It’s going to be one of the social events of the  _ year _ . Do you know how many hot guys are even going to be there? There is even a rumor about Dean breaking up with Victoria Dallon _ again.  _ It’s going to be epic and you  _ have to go.” _

Taylor rolled her eyes and said, “You said that about all the other parties, Emma. Can you just go with Madison here? She wants to go right?”

Madison nodded with a nervous smile. “But it’s always more fun when you go too. Besides, well if you don’t go. Well, Ummm…”

“What Madison is trying to say but is too nice to outright say is that if you don’t go then that bitch Julia is going to _ insist  _ on coming with me or meeting me there, and I don’t have the patience to deal with her.” She flicked her hair as her face turned unpleasant. Taylor could understand, Julia was genuinely psychotic. “She’s lucky her brother works for that model agency in New York, if not I would have dumped her ages ago. “

Taylor sighed. “So I’m your second choice?”

Emma smiled and hugged her. “You’re always going to be my first choice Tay-Tay and that’s because I want you to go. Julia is just an incentive so you can come with. Please, if I spent another minute with that psycho I’m going to kill her.”

Madison nodded. “She’s so mean. And awful.” Then she smiled. “And her clothes are tacky. She called me shorty and...other stuff. I’d rather not spend any time with her. “

“Besides,” Emma babbled excitedly. “Jake Park is going to be there too. Didn't you have a crush on him?”

Taylor's face turned red as she avoided her friend’s eye. Right, she did use to have a crush on him but to be fair who wouldn't? He was rich and objectively handsome and liked animals, and had she mentioned rich and handsome?

“So, please, please say yes. At least promise you're going to seriously think about it instead of just saying it to get rid of me. Pretty please?”

Taylor sighed and rolled her eyes. “Find I'm going to  _ seriously _ think about it. Okay?”

"Yay! It's going to be so much fun! We're going to buy some clothes for you to wear and we're all going to have the greatest time ever."

“Don't be so excited. It's not like I’ve said yes already.”

"But you will. I know you. Bye, have fun in English class." Emma winked and left, dragging Madison with her who waved at Taylor with a smile.

Taylor just sighed and let her thoughts wander once again.

She’d run into Sophia once. They didn't even glance at one another, but Taylor remembered very well their conversation from yesterday. About her being a survivor, about her being strong from Sophia's worldview. It was very alluring to think about herself that way, to tell herself that she was strong and powerful and that she had gotten something of value from what happened but… she just didn't understand. What part of her screamed survivor, besides the fact that she was still alive? 

She still hadn’t responded to Sophia and decided she wouldn't address what she told her until after tonight. 

After that, only a few more things happened to her, not very interesting and not enough for her to pay much attention and distract her mind from tonight.

She talked with Claudette for a little bit of some meaningless subject she would have definitely paid more attention any other day. It was probably something about plants and capes. Nothing big.

She also crossed paths with Chris, who she absentmindedly waved hello to and talked for a few minutes when he nervously approached to say something. Taylor was pretty sure she spent the whole conversation just nodding and saying yes to everything Chris said. She doubted he realized it.

Sooner than she realized, the school was over and the night was upon her.

It was time to shed her skin and wear someone else's.

■

Emma texted her a few times well into the night. It was about Zoe and how she, apparently,  _ did  _ have a boyfriend younger than her that she had brought home when Emma wasn’t around. She didn't ask how Emma figured all of this out but considering how distraught she was the last time they talked about this subject, Taylor thought it was better if for now, it remained a secret. No need to know about the dirty details.

Taylor answered that they could talk more in-depth about all of this tomorrow and that everything was going to be okay. She felt bad about not being able to help her right now but the sad truth was that Emma’s issues with her mother weren’t important or urgent enough for her to properly care about them _ right at this moment _ . It was an awful thought and made her feel like a huge, ungrateful bitch, but right now her priority number one was to deal with the parahuman side of her life. She could see how to help Emma tomorrow. Tonight was about the most unpleasant side of her life, not the one she loved most.

Her mother made dinner and they ate it together while having a short meaningless conversation. Taylor didn't know if her mother noticed how nervous she was or how much of an effort she made in trying to look interested in what they were talking about, but if she did then the teenager was grateful for the fact that her mother didn't comment on it. It was even pleasant in a way. Either way, when dinner was over her mom did some paperwork for her work and then went to sleep, telling Taylor she should go to bed too since she had school tomorrow. Taylor complied and waited in bed until she knew her mother was sound asleep to get out of the house.

Midnight was getting close, and then it was time to turn into someone else. However, and just in case, she had also prepared a ”costume” for her own powerless normal self. Or at least that was what she called the set of black clothes and cheap ski mask she bought after her first night in order to conceal her identity. She thought about trying to make a more "official" costume, but since her whole thing was changing into other people she thought a costume would be meaningless in the end. It wasn’t like they were ever going to see how she really looked anyways.

She repeated her route from last night, crossing the line between the good part of the city to the bad one, and tried to find a deserted place without anyone in order to use her power. 

After a few minutes she finally managed to find an alley without hookers and their clients, druggies, or a group of gangbangers doing shady shit. Predictably, it looked and smelled like shit but Taylor guessed it was the best she’d get.

Taylor took a deep breath, went inside herself, and opened a door where a lullaby could be heard. 

  
  


_ Anna stared at her mother, not knowing what to do. _

_ The elk lay dying a little to her side, its dying moans rattling her core and waking her up from her stupor. Her mother! She had to help her mother! _

_ She had saved her life when that elk had tried to kill her but now… _

_ Now she was dying. Bleeding out on the cold snow. It had stabbed her with its horns and Anna had no idea what to do anymore. She tried to move her mother, to help her, but she wasn't strong enough. She was tired, and she was hungry. And she was young, but this world never cared for that. Never cared for not making innocent people suffer. Her mother had told her that this forest was just like the world. Eat or be eaten. Those words never rang more true than now. _

_ The forest was cold and unforgiving, the elk was crying to the side and her mother was moaning in pain as Anna used all of her strength in order to try and raise her from the ground. But she wasn't strong enough, so both her arms and her mother’s legs gave out and they fell together. _

_ The snow kept falling around, touching the parts of her that were bare and making little Anna more numb and her tears more frozen. The blood in her mother just kept pouring as she looked at Anna, a resigned and peaceful look on her face. _

_ Anna stared at the only person she ever knew. Her emotions bottled up and there were a million things she wished to tell her. 'Don’t go', 'Stay,' 'I love you…' _

_ 'I’m sorry for being so weak.' _

_ So many words. So many feelings. Her mother just gave her a pained smile and opened her arms to let her in. Anna ran to her and hugged her, bitter tears getting frozen once again in her eyes. But she didn’t care. She was with her mother and she was singing. _

_ She hugged her with all her strength, knowing this was going to be the last time she did so. That the only person she ever knew was going to die and leave her alone in the cold forest and the lonely cabin. Her mother knew it too and that's why she was humming, why she was hugging her back and caressing her hair.  _

_ She always loved that lullaby. It meant happy things. It meant a nice stew close to the hearth of their little wood cabin. It meant night where her mother slept with her and hummed that beautiful lullaby to get her to sleep. It meant that Anna wasn't alone. _

_ And now it meant goodbye. _

_ Anna wished this moment could last forever, but her mother's body was growing colder. and Anna was still hungry, still sad.  _

_ Nevertheless, she clung tighter to her mother and didn't let go, even after her mother's touch grew cold and hard, even after the elk finally stopped crying and finally succumbed to its wounds. Even after the sun started coming down and the night started to come—and with it all of its creatures. _

_ After what felt like an eternity, she got up and stared at her mother’s corpse. With trembling fingers, she closed her eyes and took everything valuable and not too heavy. It made her heart hurt to leave her mother out in the open, but she was small and weak, and the night was full of beasts. _

_ She briefly looked at the corpse of the elk before leaving it to rot in the open. Nothing she could do with that either. _

_ Her walk to the cabin was the longest in her whole life. The forest was alive around her but she didn’t care. She just wanted to go home, go to sleep, and wake up from this awful dream. _

_ She reached her cabin and once she went inside she dropped everything and went to the bed. She just wanted to rest, to forget. To wake up and see her mother once again. However, before doing so, something caught her attention. It was the hare mask her mother gave her.  _

_ Bone white and a little too big for her head, it nonetheless was a comforting sight in this lonely night and it made her feel better just touching it. _

_ Anna looked at the mask for a few more seconds and after some deliberation she wore it. She looked at herself in the mirror a little more and then went to sleep. Hare mask still on her face, her mouth hummed a comforting lullaby. _

_ She never cried after that day. She always thought it was the forest’s fault. Another thing that had been stolen from her. _

_ She wasn’t wrong. _

  
  


Taylor stopped dreaming and became herself once again. She was different but had managed to change successfully and keep Anna out, even after the onslaught of memories. She pulled herself back together and sighed in a different voice that wasn’t her. She was taller now, and more muscular. She touched her face and felt something hard on it. The hare mask.

Her clothes were dirty and ragged with splotches of what looked like blood on it. She was sure that with this getup and the mask on her face, she probably looked like a candidate for the Slaughterhouse Nine right now, but surprisingly, she didn’t care too much about it. She felt strong like she could arm wrestle a bear and win handily.

She would need that strength.

She wasn’t just Taylor Hebert anymore. She was also the Huntress.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. Crossposted from Spacebattles


End file.
